Thirteen An Unlucky Number
by Jamcub
Summary: Kitty Cannon, an avarage girl in her senior year, moves to Amity Park. Will the boy of her dreams eventually win her heart, or will this be spared for someone who's not as good-looking on the outside, but a real friend on the inside? Read to find out!
1. Arriving From Harrisburg

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Danny Phantom or any related characters. Any characters that are not sen in the series or have altered looks belong to me. (But I won't spoil the beans here. Find out waht I mean by this on your own!)

A/N: The Prologue chapter, which reveals how Kitty got to live in Amity Park in the first place. Please review after reading, I don't even mind it it's just flames! (Though of course encouraging comments are more warmly appreciated.)

So, without further ado, here's the prologue to "Thirteen- An Unlucky Number"!

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Prologue

I stared out of the window. Fields and trees were moving along there, but I did not care for it the least. My mother had told me how wonderful the town we were moving to was, but it was absolutely no use. I did not want to move from my old friends, nor to a new High School where I would have to cope with new kids, and, worst of all, with new teachers.

The journey from Harrisburg had been quite good, despite the heavy rain that seemed to follow us around since the very hour we left Harrisburg. Even now, the panes of our car were splattered with rain so one could scarcely see said trees and fields (and the shrubs that had joined them in the meantime).

I looked around in the van, where the rest of my family was assembled. Well, actually, the rest of our family means my mother, Elaine Cannon, and my cat, Pewter, a sleek black cat with yellow eyes. My father was steering the van, a pretty old vehicle in this ugly mustard colour that always reminded me of bogeys. The car had probably seen the civil war, or worse, the Roman Empire (okay, they did not have cars back then, but you get my point). My mother meanwhile sat huddled in her seat, her head propped against the window pane, behind rain was still falling, reminding me of some sort of consistent mist now. Pewter sat dozing on her lap, her ears twitching slightly.

Did I mention that I love cats? The day we picked up Pewter in our backyard was the happiest day in my whole life. I honestly don't know how I could survive without my lovely little cat by now, even though the day we picked her up, she resembled a rake much more than an actual cat. The thought of the people who tossed this loveable creature away like litter makes me sick even to today.

Anyway, here I am, trailing off again. Well, my mother had given up the idea of convincing me into liking out new house when we passed out city borders, and started to read, until she fell asleep, which was, if I'm not too mistaken, two hours ago. Oh the joys of a long journey, really. Since I refused to talk to anyone, it was quite equal to me whether Mom was awake or not. Dad was busy enough to not interrupt my thoughts.

"Welcome to Amity Park." We passed a sign telling the number of inhabitants and a broad smiling face. I hated the new town even more because of this, and slumped back in my seat. Wondering why they did not put the sign to "Welcome to Amity Park/Now leaving the town", seeing that I still believed that the town was only a speck in the landscape. For heaven's sake, it was not even registered in my school atlas!

Pewter opened one of her bright eyes, yawned and stretched, and then finally jumped down to the seat and went over to me. Thinking that she probably wanted to have a cuddle or a snack, I shoved her aside, not really being in any mood to have a cuddle. Pewter hissed at me, and then stalked away briskly, her tail high up in the air. She'd probably hate me, but I was not in any mood for cute things now.

Mom opened her eyes; I could not shake off the feeling that she had just been pretending to been sleeping to avoid my stare.

"Hi, Mom." I responded, really much to tired and cold to muster up much more than that.

My Mom is this really peppy kind of person, the kind you'd think to live on coffee. The truth is, I have never seen my mother with a coffee mug in my whole life. When Dad has his morning dose of caffeine, Mom always seems to have something rather important to do; preferable far away from the place my father is then. I even saw her hang out the laundry, even though she'd done this the day before already.

Anyhow, even my mother seemed tired, though a bit more awake than I. I began considering the fact that she'd actually slept instead of pretending to do so.

"Kitty," she asked, "Are we there yet?"

"We just passed the city borders, Mom." I felt the promise I'd given myself being washed away. I'd said that I wouldn't speak a word to anyone for the remainder of the journey. Luckily, Mom did not make a comment a bout this, and turned to the window again.

Pewter had reappeared and snuggled into her lap again, having nothing but a hiss left form me. I guess this is what happens when you act like an ignorant, ill-mooded teenager and shove off your own pet.

"Great that you want to talk to us again, Kitty." Mom said. Oh great, now we're into this notheless. "I really missed your company." Mom began stroking Pewter's head softly.

"I think Pewter does not like me anymore," I said, not as a respond, but as a desperate try to start a conversation. Everything was better than staring out of the window, where the first small building s had by now turned into houses, with trees and bushes around them.

"Welcome to our new home, Elaine, Catherina." my father suddenly said. I was fairly surprised to hear him talk, considering he had not said a word since we left Harrisburg. Well, there was not much to talk about, seeing that it was mainly my mother that talked away on me. He, as opposed to my mother, had gotten the message: Kitty does not want to be disturbed when sulking. But now, since I had said the first word, he seemed to assume he was allowed to talk again.

I forgot to tell: my complete name is Catherina Ann-Marie Lianna Cannon, but no-one ever called me this, mainly because you needed to take a break halfway through the name in order not to collapse on the floor. I'm seventeen, and I've spent roughly about 15 years at Harrisburg, Virginia. When I was little, we lived much further north; in a town so small they could not even afford a name (yeah, some similarities to Amity Park here). I don't think I liked it there, but since I was only one-year-old back then, I can't really remember. Good for the town, I guess, less people complaining about it. After that, we went to Harrisburg, where I spent my elementary and most of my high School years…

But I never wanted to leave Harrisburg. The day I was told we would be moving to this little forlorn town called Amity Park, I felt like someone slipping a bucket full of ice-cold water down my spine. Seriously, parting from my friends and the rest of my family, my aunt and their daughter, was the hardest thing for me since jumping down ten meters from the highest diving board with everyone watching by.

That was now three weeks ago, and thirteen hours ago, I had last seen my old house, now deserted and lifeless, namely when I got into the van, Pewter on my arm. The cat had spent the first two hours of the journey on my arm, digging her claws into it every time we passed a truck, which made me flinch.

We were now moving towards the centre of the town, where one high building stood next to the other. Small houses snuggled into what was left of free space and not yet occupied by streets or neatly cut lawn, complete with a tree and a patch of bushes in front of each house.

It was quite late in the afternoon, nearly evening, and except for a few really old people walking their dogs, no one was to be seen at all. Exactly what you'd picture a town called Amity Park to be like on a gloomy, rainy afternoon like this.

As we pulled up the main street, the rain stopped, and the sun appeared on a sky that looked as though someone had polished it while it was raining. The sun and the fact that we would be home (even though I had only seen the house once by now) soon, made me cheer up a bit. This poor town or the weather could do nothing about the fact my Mom (who worked as a journalist for some rather big magazine) had to move due to a move of the production of the magazine, and drag her family with her.

Finally, we reached our new house. It was quite old, judging by the ancient walls and the mustard-coloured curtains (which, I was sure, would go well with our van, which was of exactly the same colour).

The rain had already become worse than ever, after this short pause it seemed to think we had had enough sun for a day. The panes of the car window were so splattered that I could scarcely see the gravel driveway of our new house. I guess back then I thought that everything was better than being out in this rainstorm, and when my father finally pulled up the driveway and then opened the van's doors, I was the first one to jump out, despite the heavy rain.

Everything we needed had been brought here already, though the mover seemed to have forgotten about the curtains, since I could see the old musty ones from here, and that's saying something, with the heavy rain reminiscent of mist around us. The last night we'd spent in our old house had been one with only broken sleep, since we had to use our old sleeping bags, and at least mine was two sizes to small for me, and I had to sleep with my head on the bare floor.

When we all went up to the front door though, it was some magic Moment to me. My Dad opened the door and flicked on the lights at once. This Moment, the house felt more like a home of some sort to me than on the whole journey to here or the long weeks of waiting after I'd been told about the moving plans.

Pewter immediately ran for the kitchen, while I headed for the stairs that led up to the second floor.

And there it was, painted in a somehow revolting spinach-green colour. I began to wonder whether the former owners of our house had some very affection for food. The door looked even more peculiar in the light of one sole, naked bulb high up on the ceiling, which was, oh great surprise, the colour of gruel… gruel that had been left to care for itself for more than a week. I took my off this sight and put my hand on the brass doorknob.

My room.

My room- actually it was just the middle one of three bedrooms, all located in the upper floor. One, the biggest, was my parent's, the middle one belonged to me, and the third and smallest was reserved for guests. When Mom told me about his, I could not help but wonder whether we would ever get to have guests of some sort. Other than my aunt Abigail and her daughter Penelope, or, as I call her, Puppy, I mean.

Sorry, trailed of again…

My room was fairly big for only being the middle one of three. There was a sill for me to sit on and spy on bypassing people- not that I actually wanted to do such a thing, mind you- and a bookshelf taking up the complete space on the wall opposite the door.

I would have no problems sorting my books, seeing that this shelf had room for about fifty books and I only had half as many. The old owner s of the house maybe had no taste in colouring, but this was one of the good sides of the house I guess.

My bed stood on the wall opposite the huge window, and my desk was settled opposite the bookshelf. Of course I had not yet had the opportunity to hang up all of my favourite posters, which were stuffed into a cardboard box that stood safely tucked away in our van, waiting to be unpacked. I could wait until I could finally put all posters up, most of which showed my favourite rock/pop singer, Elvis Presley.

I opened the door of my huge wardrobe standing right next to the desk. It was nearly empty, and I had not much choice concerning my clothes. I mentally sighed.

Wonder how long I was gonna be able to withstand all of this.

A/N: I hope you all liked this sneak peek into Kitty's world. If you find some spelling mistakes or places where I mixed things up (double-proffreading does not always make sure you catch up with everything), let me know vie a review!

Until then,

Jamcub


	2. A True Friend?

Here's the second chapter of the fiction! I have to thank DawnGreyManson and Pterodactyl for adding this story to their favourite stories list, and Pterodactyl for the nice review! It really made my day! And I did not expect that good reviews in so short time! Thank you all!

**Summary:** This is basically just Kitty calling her cousin back in Harrisburg. I hope this also gives a little insight to Kitty and Puppys feelings.

**1**

Three days later, I sat on my bed and stared out of the huge windows of my room, wondering whether it would ever stop raining. Mind you, it was just August, a month you'd expect to be warm and sunny, when you picture yourself lying on a pool, with iced tea in your hand…

I did not even know if this town even had something like this.

Okay, call me negative, but I think everyone and their mother would get a bit, well, gloomy like this if they were told that they had to move the next day, to a own they've never seen, let alone heard of.

Friends?

Yeah, I have some. Trouble is, they all went away over the summer holidays. And even though this fact could also be an explanation why I only saw grannies and grandpas wandering around in this town, it did nothing to make me feel any better.

"Kitty! Lunch is ready!"

_Oh my god, have I actually spent all morning up in my room?_

"Coming!" I grabbed my slippers from under the bed, put them on, and went down into the living room, which is actually something like a combined living-, work- and eat-room.

I was not very hungry, in fact I was not sure if I would be able to sallow one bite of my Mom's cooking, but I was desperately trying to find a distraction from thinking about how unfair my whole life was and stuff.

"What's for lunch?" I asked upon sitting down on the long table where we had had our last meals.

"Mashed potatoes and Chicken Wings." Mom put some potatoes on my plate, and completed the look with five Wings.

Ah. As I said, I was not really hungry (does the hunger for something to do count?), and when I saw the pile of Chicken Wings on top of Mount Potatoes, I mentally gagged.

"Is something wrong, dear?" Dad asked. I shook my head. _Really, Dad, I've just spent my first three days in a completely new town, and you dare ask me whether I'm okay?_

"It's nothing, Dad." I put some mashed potatoes into my mouth, not really taking it up at all. I guess a piece of cardboard would have tasted exactly the same to me then.

Of course, Mom did not pay attention to me back then, her nose buried in a book, as usual.

Don't get me wrong on here. I love my parents, but sometimes it seems they just close their eyes and ignore what's like right in front of them, waving its ugly hands.

And actually, I wasn't quite sure whether I was okay or not. Of course, the house was as good as I could have been imagining it, in this place, where everything seems to be either old or ragged… or even both, and considering the fact I did not want to move to this stupid town at all. And yet, I felt restless and irritated, like some part of me yearning for something to do, something sensible.

"I'm fine, really, Dad. Don't worry."

I knew I was the one who should be worried.

I sat cross-legged on my bed, a cell phone in my hand. I just had to phone her now, or I'd go crazy. Mad, I was sure. Sure like something.

"Penelope Baker speaking?"

"Puppy!" I exclaimed, not even considering wasting any time with an introduction, as she'd done before.

"You're it!" Puppy now sounded almost as exited as I was. "How are you? How's the house? D'you like it?"

I had to laugh, something that grew quite unfitting for me over the past weeks. "In order: Fine, as good as it could have been, and yes, I think."

There was a brief pause, and I heard rummaging in the background. After that, there was a well-know sound to be heard.

"Not him again!" I had recognized the crummy sound of my cousin's gramophone and the music of Bill Haley and His Comets.

Bill Hayley isn't that bad at all. I really enjoy his music, but Puppy's a bit too overactive with this whole thing. Her favourite song is 'Rock The Joint', and hey, I even don't get the meaning of the lyrics!

Okay, that sounded a bit weird for now. But it is true. Penelope, on the other hand, sucks up anything coming from that direction and is maybe able to recite every song they produced from the very beginning in 1950. That means, by the way, that I have got to endure this music every time I visit her. And it gets on your nerves if you have to hear it 24/7.

"Does this have to be?" I complained. I love my cousin, she's almost as a sister to me, but she can get pretty annoying at times, too.

"Yeah, it has to." Puppy replied, and I could practically see her roll her eyes, despite miles and miles of way between us. "This group is just great, why don't you accept the obvious?"

"I've already given my heart away," I responded, a little flatly.

"Do you mean this Ember McIDunno?" Puppy said.

"McLain." I corrected mechanically. "And yes, I do."

"Why are you calling?" Puppy sighed. I was happy she did, because otherwise we'd been discussing the matter for hours. That's usually how it ended up…

"I just wanted to hear a familiar voice, Pup." I replied, listening to the music that blared on in the background still. My gaze got stuck on the posters on the walls all around me, most of them showing Ember McLain, so the main colour in the room was a light shade of blue… of which my mother always said it made her go blind.

"I see." Puppy breathed. "Fact is, I miss you almost as much as you miss me, Kitty."

I nodded; if there was something true, it was this. Back when I still lived in Harrisburg, Puppy and I lived just down the street, meaning we were practically neighbours. But since we left, I'd started to miss my old life even more due to the fact I could not simply go and visit my good old friend Puppy.

"Yeah." I brushed over the covers of my bed, which were a soft yellow colour that clashed wonderfully with all the blue around me. "How is everyone?"

Everyone- that described actually everyone back then, everyone from my old friends Susan Hill and Jake Wilder over to Aunt Abigail, and then to my old teachers. Jake and Susan had summer vacation now, while Penelope and her aunt were stuck staying in Harrisburg, since Abigail had scarcely enough money to get the family through, as she loved to express it.

"Well, Mom's a bit worried, tells each and everyone she's not gonna make it through the first half of the school term." There was a brief pause in which I started to fumble around in a hole in my pillowcase. "Oh."

"Yeah, and Jake and Susan…" Puppy breathed in deeply. "I guess they adopted me as a kind of new friend, since, well, since they got to know you were about to be moving."

"Okay." This was a nasty little shock for me; to be honest, I'd always pictured my friends to be, well, my friends, and not my cousin's. Actually, it was everything but okay for me. "I don't really know what to respond to this, Puppy."

"And I don't really know what to add to this, Kitty." Puppy said, obviously quite worried and relieved at the same time. (Wow, am I talking rubbish here?)

The talk went on like this, only that we both tried to avoid the touchy subject which was my friends and their 'replacement' for me. I questioned Puppy about everyone I could remember at the time. After about one and a half hour, I hear someone knock on my door gently, an unmistakeable sign that it was time for ending my call.

I said bye to my cousin and hung up, not really any happier than I had been before.

I lost my two best friends- or what I believed to be them- to my cousin. I could not believe I was that jealous of my own cousin… bit maybe it was not so much jealousy, but much more sadness, and, I believe, anger. Anger because my friends replaced me that soon, seemingly without caring for their former friend any more. And that, even though we promised to send letters and postcards when ever we had time to do so.

My old world seemed to be torn away from me, little by little.

Well, maybe it was time for it to make way for a new one…


	3. A New Life

**A/N: **The next Chapter of TAUN is up! Plese Read & Review!

**Summary: **This contains Kitty's first day of school, and her meeting up with a certain someone that will probably alter her life throughoutly!

**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own Danny Phantom, even though there's mention of one of the characters.

**2**

I was about to start my new life.

The past three weeks were nothing but a big blur to me, with my parents going shopping with me, for school supplies, and a short visit to the local food craft, a shabby little shack called Nasty Burgers. Surprisingly enough, the food was not as bad as the name implied. I actually managed to enjoy it, to be honest.

Well, until I had to throw the thrash away.

Even though my mother tried to convince me into my shoelace being not tied up, I am sure someone made me trip on purpose. I fell down and just had time to put out my hands to avoid being smashed down like a squishy apple- and looking like one, too. My tray flew through the air, landing hard on the floor (since it had no hands to catch up), and the remains of my meal splattered all over the floor and on my new, crème -coloured blouse.

Everyone seemed to know that I was "The New One", and everyone seemed to laugh at me. Despite the fact that it was still vacation, there were enough people assembled to embarrass me completely.

One thing's for certain- this trip did not help me bonding with anyone in the crowd.

Therefore, I did not look forward to my first day of school as much as I did about a week before the incident. I was exited about my new classmates and teachers, though, and wen my father pulled up in front of my new High School (which had the super-cool name Casper High- I couldn't stand it even back then), I could not even sit still. When I got out, my Dad kissed me on both cheeks, and I left for the school, a three-storey tall building made of red bricks, with small windows, and, as far as I could see, a playground just behind it, the topmost bar of the swings just visible trough thick trees. Lawn stretched out in front of it, and a few stairs, nearly invisible behind all the bushes, led up to the main doors.

There I stood, the average girl, with brown hair just about shoulder length, mud-coloured eyes and a smile that would not even attract the school's geekiest geek.

I would have no chance of getting any new friends here, not when it had taken three years to get the last ones, which now were bonding with my cousin...

"Have a nice first day of school, darling," my Mom had said when I left the house that morning. I had nodded, and went to the car.

A nice senior year, yeah. Without any friends, sure.

"Is this your first year here?"

Okay, I'd probably jumped about a foot when someone spoke up right behind me.

"Oh, hi…"

What a brilliant thing to say when you've just come face-to-face with the perfect boy, someone you'd picture yourself to spent the eternity with. Okay, maybe not that much, but you get my drift anyway.

"Well, hi." he replied. He had wonderful blond hair and matching blue eyes, and as he smiled I could see he missed a tooth in his upper set.

"I, I… err, this is kinda my first year here…" I stammered. His face fell.

"I was just askin', in case that ya were last year… but I guess you just looked a whole lotta older than you actually are."

"Nonono, I'm just new at this school. I moved over from Harrisburg a few weeks ago." I quickly added. "I am senior year."

"Oh yeah?" He turned back to me, flashing this wonderful smile of his. Dazzling, somehow mysterious, but highly cute, at least in my opinion. "Then maybe we coulda be meetin' one day or the other, what'cha think?"

The yard, though deserted when I arrived at school now gradually filled with students. And to my great horror, I recognized most of them from the incident at Nasty Burgers.

"Listen, errr…" I had forgotten that I didn't even knew his name, but he jumped in.

"Johnny 13," he explained. "With double-n."

"Johnny, let's do this some there time, okay?" I said hurredly. "I don't want them to witness us.

"Oh." Johnny turned around and headed for the main doors of the school. When I was sure he was out of sight and gone, I followed.

Someone suddenly touched my shoulder, and I gasped for breath. But then I had to recognized the person as one of the girls from Nasty Burger.

"God Luck with the loser, loser!" she hissed.

Oh, great.

Brandished as a loser the first day on my new school without even having put a foot into the actual building.

Things could not get any worse for me.

Our grade was assigned to a fairly young teacher who introduced himself as Mr Evans. When everyone was seated (I next to a window so I could gaze out of it and wish I wasn't there all day long), he proceeded to the blackboard. Upon writing down his name , he said:

"This is my very first year here, people. I hope you and I are a re going to get along well."

I could hear some suppressed snickers around me, but continued to stare towards the board. Mr Evans now wrote different subjects up on the blackboard, each one with its own number, and then clasped his hands together.

"Okay, everyone, as you already know, I'll be your English teacher and homeroom teacher this year. But I guess it wouldn't hurt if you knew a little more about me, would it?"

Oh, big whoop. Attack of the random jokes. I yawned and started to stare down at my desk. Unlike the ones in my old school, those were full with writings and messages, some of them not really suitable to write them down here.

Meanwhile, Mr Evans had started with a rather boring speech, writing each fact up on the blackboard (at the time he was finished, it was so full you could not even distinguish words). "I like classical novels, I don't have any relatives, and my greatest wish is to be a vice principal one day." He breathed in deeply, and some of the students who'd been sound asleep on their desks, jerked awake.

"Now, does nobody want to follow my example?"

Someone in the back row said: "Oh, this was meant as an example. Because, y'know, I thought you showed us what not to do, Sir."

Several snickers broke out in the room, and Evans narrowed his eyes, which were, as I failed to notice earlier, a light shade of pine green. (It's not that this was that obvious, but I like to describe things properly… and sometimes a bit to detailed.)

Anyhow, I kept staring up to the board still and avoided looking around. Because of some random reason, Johnny had seated himself right behind me. The thought of him staring at my back was frightening and quite flattering at one time. It was kinda like standing in a very bright spotlight to me.

"Well," Evans was trying hard not to let his fury show through, although his hands were clenched at he looked quite lost, as if not knowing what to say. "Maybe out newcomer wants to tell us something about herself."

It took me a little to realise he meant me, but eventually, I scrambled up. My knee hit the desk from below, and this hurt a lot.

I guess my head was a brilliant red colour by now, and not only because of the pain. I hate speaking in public, mainly because every time I see all those people, I get hyper-nervous, and my voice turns into something very squeaky, like a mouse being trodden on.

"Uhm, well, my Name is Catherina Cannon, but you can call me Kitty. I hate Catherina…" I began feebly. Well, at least the others didn't boo at me yet. "My father works as an office clerk, and my Mom has a job at a local magazine. That's we had to move from Harrisburg."

Evans still stood in front of the board, his eyes glued to his wristwatch. For a moment I had the absurd idea he was measuring my speech time to give me a mark for it.

"My favourite colour is a light moss green, and I am a fan of Ember McLain." I looked over to Evans again, who scribbled something on a small piece of paper. I could not get rid of the feeling that this something was the time I needed for my little speech.

"Very good, Miss Cannon." Evans cleared his throat, and I hastily sat down.

"Now, everyone will be given their timetables, and that's for today. I assume you all get your books?"

Everyone, except me, nodded vigorously. Now that the school day seemed nearly over, everyone was on his best behaviour, eager t leave school.

"Wonderful." Evans put a stack of paper out of his bag. "You may now all go, but before you leave, you have to come here and get your timetable."

I made motion to leave as well, but when I'd gotten my timetable (and stuffed it slovenly into my bag), I was held up by Evans suddenly holding on my arm.

"Miss Cannon, you have to come with me, please."

Oh my god, what'd I do wrong?

Feeling a bit like having my final binge, I followed my teacher's instructions, while everyone else was scrambling to get away from the school.

Evans sat down at his desk, his hands folded and the amazingly green eyes fixed firmly on me. He still had full, black hair, and a nice smile that seemed to not quite fit to the fact he was a teacher.

"Miss Cannon, since this is your very first day here as well as mine, I've volunteered to guide you through the school. Since everyone else is gone, we'll be completely undisturbed."

"Err, yeah, Mr Evans." I replied nervously. Evans got up, and there was a short pause. I was under the impression he was searching for words that somehow fit the situation.

"Miss Cannon," he finally said, "I know it's difficult for you, but be assured, I'll help you with each step of the way into a new life."

I shuddered; whether from cold (the weather had not become better all summer, another reason everyone who could afford it wanted to leave Amity over summer) or fear I could not tell. "Thanks, but… but I'll try to make it on myself."

"Just be sure to seek help whenever you feel like you… you can't manage it on your own anymore, Miss Cannon." Evans went to the door and held it open for me. "After you."

I spent the following two hours together with my English teacher; Evans, obviously knew more about the school then you'd guess, judging by the fact that he was as new at this school as I was. I got to know everything, from the toilets and the library (not that I made any connection between the toilets and the library, mind you); when we were passing the counsellors office, I even got to see our counsellor for once.

This woman was old.

And I don't use the term lightly. This person was as old as possible without falling apart. Her hair, greyed to a point that made it look rather dull, like the surface of an amour left to cover in dust completely, was pulled up to the most crazy hairstyle I'd ever seen. Either this woman was a Satanist, or age had her brain dried up that much it gave up working.

I heard Mr Evans greet her. "Good afternoon, Mrs Spectra."

Okay, this Mrs Spectra definitively had a screw loose wit her hair pulled up to shape two horns. Well, it rather surprised me that here was even hair left to be pulled up.

I guess that moment I had found something teachers all over the world were searching for desperately: something even more boring than a lesson on Algebra. (And trust me, my old Algebra teacher made his lessons into a sort of weekly torture for anyone who dared enter the room.)

"Good afternoon, Gordon." the counsellor said with a voice that matched her elderly appearance perfectly. (Elderly here translates with: nearly fallen to dust.)

Mentally, I cracked up laughing. Gordon?

"Marilyn, please!" Evans hissed.

Okay, Marilyn and Gordon. I did not know what scared me more: The complete silliness of Evans's name, or the fact my school's counsellor was obviously named after Marilyn Monroe (of which I am no fan, to make things clear).

"Miss Cannon, whenever you feel like it, you can always come to me… to get some help with certain problems." Spectra said. "Problems you might have."

Okay. Whenever I feel like sharing my problems with an old fossil like her, I'd surely come. By the way, why was everyone so determined to help me with problems I did not have?

Of course I could not know things would go down a whole different path then.

That afternoon, when I went home by bus, I could not shake off the feeling I had just screwed up my social life for some reason.

**A/N:** So thid was Chapter Three! I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks in advance to everyone who's gonna send me reviews! also thanks to ZipZip1313! you know why, I suppose?


	4. Specters and Geeks

A/N: 'Nother Chapter up

**A/N: **'Nother Chapter up! I hope you enjoy this, even though it's a tad long (six pages on MS Word) and the bit with Spectra could get a bit irritating. But if you've got some questions or corrections/suggestions, review me, or note me.

As susual, I don't own DP blah blah blah yadda yadda only Ocs belong to me blah blah rant rant… fin.

**Summary: **Kitty meets Sidney Poindexter for the first time, gets into Spectra's way (sorta), and has to deal with various stuff, this mstly being her feelings towards people and herself.

**3**

I'd been leading a perfectly peaceful life since the day I left school by bus (no signs of something crazy around). Actually, I found out that going to school by bus isn't that bad at all, even though it means that I have got to spent half an hour with a bus full of people who seem to hate the mere sign of me.

Oh yeah, my life isn't exactly what you'd call easy.

You can divide the students at our school into three groups. First off, there's the Populars, all those kids who seem to money instead of brains, and more money than actually would do them any good.

Then, there's the Nobodys, the students who seem to belong to nobody in particular and just hang around at one place together because all the others are taken already. That is where you could put me. I guess you can be quite happy I did not end up with the third part of our school, named the Geeks. This group included mostly geeks (surprising, huh?) but you'd find also some Goths here and there, along with some people who seem to talk backwards and in an own language completely, the Amity Library Club. Those seem to spent all day in the school's library, seeing that there is no other collection of books larger than two shelves, and people like this read two books a day. They also dress most peculiar. I've actually seen this lot dressed in white shirts with collars and a silk tie in the obligatory grey colour entirely. Of course there is also some variation: Black bow ties instead of the grey silk ties. Impressing, really. It looked as though they'd all gotten a coupon for a sale at Grandpa's & Co, the shop in town all the, let's call them elderly people, and the crisp businessmen went to to get their stuff. Not that I ever made the connection between those, but I guess they just ran out of room (and ideas to name the shop) when they built Grandpa's.

It's no wonder it's always the geeks or the Librarians (as the Club calls itself) who get beaten up by the upper class boys and the minority sophomores who managed to get an enrolment at the football team in the first week. Lucky for me, those abstained from beating up Nobodys, so the worst I ever got from one of them was an extremely loud yell- that you could surely hear in China.

If I belonged to the Nobodys, Johnny 13 is something completely different. He kinda did not fit in any of the shapes; he did not have enough money to be a Popular Kid, and was not as geeky as the Librarians, he did not blend into the background as most of the Nobodys (including me) do. The section I'd sort him to would be the Goths I guess. Johnny is officially a mystery.

While he has the ambition to be one of the Populars, he prefers to spent his days quite alone, not showing up in class (or on the school yard in general) that much. I don't even know if he really intended to meet me again; the closest I've been to him was on our first day here, when he seated himself right behind me.

That particular day, a quite normal Monday morning in my forth week at Casper High, the first thing I saw, and it did nothing to brighten my mood, was one of the Librarians. To be more precise, it was one of his hands waving out of the next locker.

A group of Populars, obviously all of them football players and thus, sophomores, was standing assembled around the locker, trying to push the poor bloke a little deeper in.

"Take this as a little thank you from us, Poindexter!" one of them groaned.

"Yeah, thank you for ruining this complete week, dupe!" another one chimed in. Sidney Poindexter, still stuffed into his locker in a way that made it impossible for him to utter a word, squealed like a trapped mouse. Which he, strictly speaking, was.

One of the players slammed the door shut, trapping Sidney inside the locker. And then, he group went off, laughing like crazy.

Although I did think the Librarians were about the most boring people in the whole school, I also thought they deserved better. So I tried to free him, of course without any success. The locker obviously got damaged somehow when slammed shut so vigorously, and there was no use tugging on it any longer.

"Anything wrong here?" someone said.

Uh-oh.

The janitor.

Either, being old is seriously contagious around this school or it was just pure coincidence, but this way or the other, our janitor _is_ old.

Or it's just me who thinks this way?

He's always wearing a grey cap of some sort over his black hair (I'm sure he's dying it though), a blue working suit, shiny black shoes and grey gloves (no idea why exactly). His eyes remind me of the coal they still use to fire the oven in the cellar: they're a dark brown colour, and I sorta can't stand them, no idea why again.

The problem with this guy is- he's slow. Slow like something. Like things stood, this kid- that I suddenly remembered was called _Sidney_ Poindexter- had no means of getting out of this locker before lunch.

I was curious about what the Populars meant though. I knew they all viewed it as a sort of sport (though, in my opinion, an awful one) to lock students into their lockers. What was the meaning of all this?

By the time I arrived in the auditorium, I knew what was going on exactly.

The stage that was normally reserved for the morning pep talk at Monday now had a lectern mounted on top of it, with a banner stapled on it. Another banner, bearing the same message as the smaller one on the lectern, though much, much bigger, was fixed behind the lectern, on the wall where you'd normally find the banners of our sports team, the Casper Ravens. The sentiment- _Pep Up With Books_- was also printed on cards you could get right at the entrance of the auditorium. I waved a nerve-racking teen off who wanted to thrust one of these into my hands, and searched for a chair. Those were the only thing that remained from the auditorium I used to know; ten rows of chairs, all facing the stage and the lectern. The front row was nearly entirely occupied by the Librarians, who seemed to be eager to let the event (whatever it was) start.

"Where's Poindexter?" Someone said from the crowd next to me. The football players assembled in the left corner did not say a word, but I could see a sly smirk crossing their features.

With the silence lingering upon me like a huge boulder, I turned to crowd now entering the auditorium on the player's tail.

"Well, our janitor is still busy with getting him out of his locker, where a few goofs locked him in." I nodded over to the players. I could see the biggest of them shoot me a warning glare.

As I had expected, the Librarians all held their breaths. I could see head being pulled together, and a whisper rising from the front row.

That moment, the janitor kicked open the doors and entered, Sidney Poindexter on his heels. This surprised me; as I said, I hadn't expected him to get outta there before lunchtime rolled around.

"Next time you gonna stick your head into some trouble," he said really slowly, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "make sure you get someone else to, well, pull your ugly head outta there." He turned to leave. "This makes what?" he mumbled. "The sixth time in a month, mister."

I was more than sure Sidney would have loved to put a stop to this, but I somehow couldn't picture him doing something against it. He just didn't fit into the whole thing, not with his sense of fashion. His greasy hair was scruffy now, and his glasses were askew. He rearranged it with a shaky hand when walking on.

I think the scariest part about it was when he passed me; he gave a low bow and muttered something you could have taken up as a weak thank you. But as much as I appreciated feedback, I was not keen on making any kind of bondage with Sidney Poindexter. It's not that he is not handsome; actually he does look good, with his neatly parted black hair and lovely smile that always showed his oversized front teeth. But everything he might he might have won through appearance was destroyed by his acting. Even if he put down those ghastly glasses of his, I still could see no way we could ever be more than friends.

"Sidney, I think you've got business to attend to..." I muttered feebly when his brown eyes met my own. "We can talk through this another time, yes?"

Sidney gave a still nod and headed for the lectern, while I found a seat in the front row, even though it meant sitting close to one of the Librarians, one that was having a terrible lisp and the urge to tell everything that was going on in front of him to his neighbour.

Ah well, another thing I have to add to my 'Why I'd rather still be home'-list.

The whole lecture wasn't as bad as I expected. Sidney did make his point of view clear (at least to those who were listening), and it surprised me that he always hid behind books, never showing himself really- he had quite a bit of charisma.

Maybe, after he changed his wardrobe and put on contracts, we could be-

That moment, the auditoriums doors were whipped open suddenly. All of us, (the ones who'd been listening to Sidney and those who'd been dozing off or playing tic-tac-toe), suddenly jerked their heads around to find out what had happened.

And so did I.

I now wish I'd never done so.

At first, I thought a complete stranger had entered the room, but little by little, the person standing at the back of the hall turned out to be someone I knew.

Hair, once grey and dull as unpolished metal, now turned into an almost vibrant shade of red, and eyes which had once been lifeless and of a sickening green colour (reminiscent of spinach gone bad) were now sparkling, an almost piercing green.

I did not need someone to shout out her name, or the sudden uproar that burst out in the audience to know Marilyn Spectra had entered the room, although dramatically changed.

"Good Morning, Casper High students!" the counsellor greeted us all. I glance over my shoulder showed me that Sidney had stopped his speech in mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open so his quite oversized teeth were even more prominent.

"Excuse me, Doctor Spectra," someone in the crowd piped up, probably the same student had had called out her name for everyone to hear earlier.

"Yes, my darling?" Spectra seemed to have gotten a pretty peppy kind of nature in addition to her newfound beauty and youth. "Is something wrong with me?"

Wrong?

What's giving you this idea, Doctor? You just walked straight into here, seemingly about fifty years younger, and act like our cheerleader's head girl… but yeah, everything is okay. Yeah, indeed.

"I'm merely here," at this point I could have sworn she eyed me, still smiling at the crowd in front her, topped by Sidney.

"- to get a little pep into this lame rag of a school!"

Someone quite close to me, maybe only one or two seats away, was daring enough to point out that this was exactly the point of this meeting. I guess he belonged to the Librarians; so far I'd never heard someone encouraging their plans and projects that did not belong to the Library Club.

Surprisingly enough, I found myself being the one exception from the usual a moment later.

"Doctor Spectra, I guess whoever this said right." I began. Without turning around, I knew Sidney's mouth was just opening even wider than before, as if he could not believe what he was hearing.

Spectra cocked an eyebrow at me. Then, a smile crossed her features, tugging on the corners of her mouth only slightly, and not even reaching her eyes, which remained cold and stationary… and creepy.

"Are you a classified school counsellor, Miss Cannon?" she asked coldly.

"No, but-"

"That means you've got no means of deciding whether any event can help to pep up a school or not." Spectra answered.

The room fell dead silent. Everyone was now gawping at Spectra, who clasped her hands together twice and said:

"Now let's pep up this whole thing a bit!"

Upon her clapping her hands, someone else had entered the room.

"May I introduce my new assistant: Bertrand." Spectra said. Bertrand, a fairly stout, but still young man with maroon hair and the same piercing eyes as Spectra, gave a stiff nod to the assembled students.

"Good Morning, students." he greeted before turning to his boss again. Spectra now headed for the doors, and I was thinking she was going to leave.

Not exactly.

"Come in, guys!"

A second later, a mass of people swarmed all over everyone. All I could see were crisp black suits, red bow ties and grey shirts- exactly the same garb Bertrand wore, too.

The attack of the clones, I thought.

While those people (it had to be about twenty of them) redesigned the auditorium so completely you'd never recognized it as the same room which held a lecture about books ten minutes ago, Spectra made her way from the back of the hall right up to me.

I've met you before," I said. "On my first day here."

"I think you need something new, my dear." Spectra said, ignoring my statement so completely I could have been silent as well. Bertrand stepped into sight, and I had the sudden thought of a predator stalking its prey.

"I've never seen you in my whole life, and I think you made a little mistake here. The woman you met on your first day was my grandmother Marilyn. I am Penelope Spectra, or, in other words, Doctor P. Spectra." Spectra said. "I'm sorry if you have any trouble telling us apart."

Okay, confusion time. I knew that Marilyn Spectra was old, well; it wasn't exactly easy to miss. But no one ever told me- or anyone else- that anyone, let alone her granddaughter'd replace her.

"Anyway," as Spectra spoke, I could see the same predator-like expression on her face. "Catherina, it's no wonder you're always singled out like this."

My eyes narrowed slightly, while I knew everyone in the whole hall- Geeks, the guys from the last row that always skipped school, Nobodies, even the teachers that leaned casually onto a wall- were by now following my very moves.

"What'cha mean?" I said.

"Well, no wonder you're unpopular." Spectra steamrollered on. "You need something new, something like a new image of yourself. Skip bonding with folk that could harm your popularity."

Spectra did not move, but out of the corners of my eyes I could see Bertrand looking over to the lectern, where Sidney still stood, like frozen in mid-speech.

Dr Spectra moved her face closer to mine, until I could see my reflection in those dazzling, piercing eyes of hers.

"Change yourself, Catherina. Or you'll end up on the road. Alone. Because Poindexter won't be there by then."

It was like something delicate and fragile was breaking inside me. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, although I did to hold them back. Was this what this woman was aiming at? To make me feel miserable? Shouldn't she be doing the exact opposite?

"How dare you make any connection between me and-" At this point, I had to breathe in deeply, "Poindexter?"

This marked the first time I actually referred to him by only his last name instead of using Sidney.

"There's nothing going on between us!" I shouted for everyone to hear. I hoped everyone was getting the message…

"Bertrand, the banners." Spectra called out, suddenly regaining her peppy nature. Her servants (or whatever) were now finished with redesigning the auditorium, right under our all noses. Grey and white were by now replaced by green and violet, complete with some black sparks in it.

I scrambled up from my seat, trying more than ever to hold back tears that were already streaming down my cheeks. After they'd been imprisoned in my heart for weeks, even months, ever since I arrived at Amity Park.

Spectra stepped aside, this predator look on her face again, whipping out a pair of shades.

The last thing I heard before storming out of the hall was Spectra's peppy voice:

"Let the festiveness begin!"

It was not raining; I guess I cried enough to satisfy my and heavens needs.

The swings I was sitting on weren't really built for seniors, and my feet scraped through the gravel and I could only see my skirt, light apricot, a colour you missed in this dull grey town. I liked this skirt, and wasn't sure if I wanted to see anything else.

Totally not, no.

Not even Johnny, not his dazzling smile, nor his blond hair and his deep blue eyes. I could not take any more of this any more. The sun was finally shining, but my spirits were down. I just hoped Sidney Poindexter wasn't feeling the same way.

"Kitten?"

I looked up. There he was, Johnny. After he avoided me like plague for the past weeks, he now came sneaking after me when I just made the decision that he was the last thing I wanted to see now.

"Leave me alone, okay?" I mumbled to my feet more than Johnny. I guess that's why he did the exact opposite of what he was told. He sat down on the swing to my right, grasping the chains and staring down to the gravel to his feet.

As I said before, Johnny is unusual in many ways. It's not only he does not normally hang around any of the groups in our school, he does not even hang around the school itself that much. And besides, his taste of clothing would scare off most of my classmates.

He's usually dressed in a white shirt one gets rarely to see, 'cause he insists upon wearing a long, grey coat over it, and a similar pair of trousers. Every piece of his clothing seems to need a clean, at least in my opinion.

"Kitten," he started again, "I know you're not okay, that's why I am not gonna ask you about it, okay?"

I nodded indifferently.

"I know that peeps are gonna give you a quite hard time from now on, but thrust me, you'll eventually get over it."

I slowly started to swing, keeping my eyes cast down, but listening to Johnny, notheless.

"People been givin' me the stink eye ever since I entered this school. An' I've been copin' with it ever since, too." Johnny explained. "If I were you, I wouldn't give a damn 'bout what the others are sayin'. It only keeps you from doing the important stuff."

Johnny got up again, dropping something down next to my swing.

"Your backpack." he said. "That Poindexter kid wanted to get it for you, but I told him nobody ain't touching anything that belongs to my Kitten."

He made motion to leave, but I told him to stay, and asked him why he'd never been around for weeks.

"It's kinda difficult," he said., and fell back onto the swing. "Y'know, I had to go on my first day, to get my stuff and such, and to not make my teacher suspicious. But I don't like the way people keep having an eye on me, so I'm not usually makin' the scene. People seem to believe I make stuff happen, like a jinx, dig it? That's why I keep away from them."

He got up again. "Speaking of which- I hope the nerd's gonna keep away from you, or he'll get creamed. And I ain't joking."

And he strode off so quickly he was gone before I even got down from y swing.

What did Johnny mean by his rather unexpected speech? And was I putting Poindexter into trouble?

I did not know, at least not yet. But I was determined to find out what was going on.


	5. Invitation to the Ball

**A/N: **Another New chapter! I hope this one's good though. Ty to ZipZap1313 yet again, for being such an awesome buddy to me over the past weeks! This chapter is for YOU!

**Summary: **Kitty is confronted with heer feelings, and gains knowledge of quite a weird thing. Is Spectra not what she seems to be?

**4**

I did not go back to the school that day, and seeing that I could not (and did not want to) go just home, I just skipped school and went for a stroll in the town. I don't know whether Johnny did go to school that day, but I kinda hoped he'd not, hoping we would meet in town somewhere.

Back in the holidays, I did not really have any opportunity to explore the town. I only got outta my room twice or so, when we went to get the school supplies, and when I paid a visit to Nasty burgers.

Surprising enough, I was drawn to this place like by magic, even though I'd only been there once, and did not really bear some fond memories of this place. (Okay- I could not stand it. Her you've got it.)

The freckled, pimpled guy behind the counter wiping his glasses with this ugly, dirty piece of fabric, even though he was making it only dirtier by it. I made a mental note not to drink anything here again. (Even though the stuff you got in our lunch room wasn't all that better, believe me.)

"What'cha want?" he asked when I sat down on the table farthest away from him. That of course did not stop him from bugging me again.

"What'cha want?" he urged.

"Nothin'." I said flatly. "Just lemme sit here and bask in my grief, 'kay?"

But he was not gong to give in that quickly.

"Listen, Lady, you've gotta buy something here or you'll get thrown out."

I quickly checked my wallet. "What can I get for one dollar thirty-five cent?"

"Halfa milkshake." he replied. I thrust the money into his sweaty hands and said: "Take this, and lemme in peace, will you?"

"'course, Lady." The teen stuffed the money into the picket of his worn our apron (yuck!) and backed away. "Have y nice day!"

The fact I had to bribe this guy into letting me stay did not really brighten my mood at all. If possible, I felt even worse afterwards.

And I spent all my money on a greedy teen.

Hooray. What a great day.

I was slowly beginning to wonder whether Sidney was suffering as much as I did now. The answer was most likely to be yes; Sidney was not the type of person you'd take a lot. And those sophomores seemed to love any excuse o give him the beatings anyway. I guess they'd even do it if spectra hadn't dragged him into this.

Nasty Burgers was empty, as you'd picture it in the midst of a school day, where everyone (except me) was sitting in their class, learning difficult French vocabulary, or doing some mathematic equation: Yet I could see some people hustling and bustling around the snack bar (I refused to call it a restaurant; it's not worth it).

I also thought about if anyone would miss me in school. I personally doubted this- greatly. If anyone missed me, then it would be Evans.

And Johnny.

And Sid-

Agh, man, what was I doing there? I had nothing to do with that Poindexter kid. I'd even declared that in front of what- the whole school? I could not allow my thoughts to linger around him anymore, really.

He was a nerd, a Librarian, a Geek. And I, well, I was a Nobody, one notch higher on the social ladder.

What if I changed myself?

No. The only one I'd change myself for would be Johnny.

Johnny 13.

I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of the freckled, pimply teen craning his neck to get sight of me.

I jumped off my chair and stomped towards the counter, my steps echoing eerily through the tiled room. The teen looked at me as if I was an alien from outer space or something. And Then, I pulled all my self-confidence together.

"D'ya wanna something from me?" I asked coolly, one hand on my hip, the other placed firmly on the counter.

"Not really," he replied, and I was relieved to actually hear this smeary tone melt from his voice like ice left to languish in the hot desert sun.

"Good." I answered. "Could you maybe stop crooning around me like a lovesick dove then?" With two boys in my head, I could not afford another one mixing my emotions. And I was ready to tell him that to the face. Right then.

"Listen closely, you little runt," I said in a deathly whisper. "You've got my money, but you gotta get your dirty paws off me, get it?"

My tone seemed to have made the matter clear to the guy. He backed off, and I felt somehow better after that, even if I'm a bit ashamed to say that. It's usually not my way of talking to someone, yelling like this. I like to discuss things out instead of hitting with my fists. But this time, I think it was necessary.

"Thank you!" I said to him. He was shaking by now,

"Here!" he gasped. "Take your money! And more! Just leave!"

I snatched one dollar thirty-five form the counter (which would have really needed a clean-off, by the way), and left Nasty Burgers. The doors slammed shut behind me, and I went down the lane that led down to the town's outskirts.

I had made my decision. One of the guys in my heart had to move away.

But I aint' telling you it is yet.

Maybe you're thinking: And now she just put her whole life upside-down?

But it's not as easy as it seems. The next day in school I kept an eye out for Poindexter. All I wanted was to make my point of view clear to him. Nothing less, nothing more.

Too bad the little runt had plans of his own, I gotta say.

So when I caught hold of him in the homework room, a room where students were to do their homework- not that they actually did it- he shooed away all his friends. And then, he spoke first.

Not what I wanted. But I'm not the impolite kind of person, so I let him talk out.

"I have to tell you something, Catherina."

Pause, and it was slowly getting to me that he wanted me to respond something. I cleared my throat, and said:

"Yeah, me too." I wrung my hands nervously (really smooth, Kitty, really smooth move). "But you can start if you want."

I watched him taking down his glasses and cleaning them on the sleeve of his white shirt quite uneasily. The fact that he had wonderful leaf green eyes didn't' make it easier, either. I tried to look to my shoes instead of into his face.

"Well, you remember Spectra?"

I was close to grab Poindexter by the collar, but restrained me in time. Maybe he'd just forgotten about what'd happened the day before (as if anybody was going to fall on that). "Yeah, -I do."

"Last Friday, when I got home from school- I always stay late on Friday because of the science le-"

"Get to the point, please." I urged him. What was that important that he was scarifying his twenty minutes of in school research for it? I was nearly expecting someone to die halfway through the story.

"And when I got out of the school's main doors, I saw Mrs Spectra back out of the teacher's parking lot." Sidney explained. "The old one."

"Well, she probably went home to get her granddaughter, this scary woman." I replied. "Teachers don't usually tell their plans to students who happen to run into them, Poindexter."

He flinched at the sound of his name, but continued his story, notheless. I guess he wanted to hear that what he'd seen was not a figment of his imagination, or whatever.

"I'm not finished." he said. "My suspicion was aroused-"

I was confused. Did Poindexter have to sound like a walking encyclopaedia? "What?"

Poindexter rolled his eyes. "I was wondering what was going on," he explained. "Anyway, as I followed her quietly, I saw she'd probably had an argument with someone. Her hair hung into her face, which was red as a tomato.

Well, and then, she just did not pay attention to the road. I t was on the next crossing when it happened."

"What?" I said. If he was going to tell me someone I knew had died in a car accident, I was not quite sure if I wanted to hear it.

"Mrs Spectra drove far over the maximum permissible speed, and thus it was no wonder she nearly crashed into that light pole. I was just going to run over to her when I saw what had stopped her: she'd driven right over some young guy n a black suit."

"Are you gonna tell she killed someone?" I said. This was getting more bizarre every second.

"Yes, and you even know him." Poindexter said sternly.

At this point I was sure he was pulling my leg, maybe to get my attention. "How can I meet someone who died three days before having entered this school huh?" I was not going to play along with his childish story, if it was that what he wanted from me. "It's impossible."

Poindexter seemed to think over it for a second. "Fact is, I recognized this guy Spectra brought with her yesterday. It was the same person that was killed by her three days ago."

"Maybe your brain's getting a bit dried up from all those dusted books you're reading daily," I said, not really wanting to sound that unfriendly. "Come on, if there's something you want to tell me, maybe something concerning me and you, you don't need some childish stories to cover it up, okay?"

And then he did it. He asked me for a date for the annual Fall Ball on the 31rst of Halloween. The big event, right next to the graduations and the school play that too play somewhere through mid-April. Everyone would have to bring a date wit them, and I'd been hoping that Johnny would ask me. But seeing that he'd not done so in the past week, since we got announced that there would be a ball, I did not think he was about to in the coming week.

"A date?" I mumbled to my shoes, which suddenly became very interesting to me. At least I wouldn't have to look into Poindexter's face.

"Yes." he said. "Would you? Go with me, I mean? Please?"

"Well, so far no one had asked me, so you might have a fairly good chance, you know." I said, feeling a prick in my heart as I thought of Johnny 13 the mysterious boy I'd love to dance with on the fall ball. "Maybe we could go together, like, you know…"

"A couple?" Poindexter said. I shook my head.

"Friends." I said. "Not more."

Actually, this had to be much more than everyone else ever offered to him, except for a night or two in his locker, of course. Or a free "Swimming Lesson" in the boy's toilets. It's not like I ever saw anyone being nice to him, not even hi s friends from the Library Club.

"That's okay I guess," Poindexter said and turned around. "Bye."

And he opened the door and strode out of the room, leaving me completely alone. Unless you count the thoughts in my head that seemed to be on some kind of freaking roller-coaster-ride. Finally, I stumbled out of the room, hoping to find Sidney standing behind the door, waiting for me.

But that was absurd. I could just spot him at the other side of the hallway. But before I could say something else, Sidney had disappeared in the crowd that streamed towards the classes, now that Lunch Break was finished.

Had I spent the whole Lunch Break in that room?

And I hadn't had a chance to eat something. Blast.

I looked back at the shelves lining the walls around, and at the blinds pulled down over the window, barring the sunlight so the whole room looked like a black-and-white scenery. I went over to the window and opened the blinds again. Now, life seemed to come into the dreary whitewashed walls, and the plain bookshelves.

Then I left to attend my class, too.

It turned out the headmaster's board had already found a way to let me pay for skipping school the day before. When I passed the counsellors office one period later, Spectra (whether it was the old or the new one, I did not care) came out of the room and held up.

"Miss Cannon? May I speak to you for a moment?"

Rather, not, I thought, but nodded, seeing that I had hardly any other choice. "Of course, Doctor." I replied. "But I've got classes to attend."

"It'll only take a second." Spectra had this rather threatening look on her face again. "Since you decided to skip school yesterday, the Directory has decided that you'll spend this afternoon together with me and my assistant. Of course, your parents will be informed, yon you needn't worry about that." She adjusted her shades, added: "I assume they do not yet know?"

I shook my head. Of course I'd not been silly enough to tell Mom and Dad that I'd skipped school.

"Just view is as your mandatory check-through." Spectra said. "It'll only do you good, believe me."

Yeah, and I'll start speaking backwards tomorrow, Doctor.

"You can go now." Spectra said. "We'll meet later today anyway, won't we? Three o'clock, my office. Have a nice day."

And I hope your day is as miserable as possible, Doctor.

"Until three." I said and left for my class, which was due to begin any second now.

The whole day, I could not quite concentrate on what was going on around me, whether it was the teacher telling us something or my classmates pulling jokes about me, and that also due to the banners that started to show up around every corner.

One second, there was plain crème wall, and the next, you'd find a banner broadcasting the same call all over the school: Students had to check into Spectra's office within this week, or they'd get separated from all after-school activities. So the cheerleaders and the Football team went there because of their training, the Chess Club because of their chessboards, and the Librarians because of the library. The teachers talked all the others who were not involved into something into the thing. At the end, everyone in school had at least one appointment for a quick, ten minutes check-through. I myself did not quite see the necessarily of this entire thing. Sure, there was a Pep Race at the end of the week (The Casper Ravens, our Football Team, had to cancel a match because of this- great way to lift the spirits), but to me, we all seemed peppy enough to satisfy even a law court. This was, unless Spectra wanted us to reach her level of peppiness. That would have been quite a difference, I admit. Really- the happiness of this person is sickening and frightening at one time.

Apart from this, I had other things in my head.

Poindexter and his date wit me, for example.

The nerdy eight-grader was something I could not put out of my mind, try as I might. Every time I thought he was gone for sure, he kept reappearing, making it extremely difficult for me to concentrate on Algebra. And it did not help that Johnny 13 kept appearing now and then, too. And that, even though he still refused to appear in class.

"Miss Cannon, would you mind to listen tome at some point?"

My teacher had obviously caught me daydreaming, and shot a warning glance at me. I straightened up, eager to distract me from any guy floating around in my head. Alas, Algebra did not help in the slightest.

This wasn't the right moment to pay attention to this subject, where you had to solve difficult mathematical equations to solve. My problems only sat two classrooms away and were by far easier to solve.

I could just hope that this topic wasn't part of the finals, because other otherwise I'd end with a grade that worse I'd not even dare to enter my house again.


	6. Blast From The Past

**A/N: **Another chapter, this time decicated to everyone who left comments or faved me and/or the story! You guys know your name!

**Summary: **A veeeery boring seesion together with Spectra and his supposed-to-be-death-assistant Bertrand. Oh, and there's a Flashback to Johnny's past included! I'm thinking I'll use this again (a Flashback). What do you think?

**5**

It was raining again.

It splattered against the windows in the upper classrooms, while I was down in Spectra's office. I'd given anything to have detention in my classroom now instead of this window-less, freezing cold office. And to make matters worse, Spectra had gone twenty minutes ago and not yet returned. Now her stout assistant, Bertrand was guarding the door, reading a magazine I'd never heard of- 'Psychology through the Ages.'

How boring.

I stared down to the book I was stuck reading, titled '1000 Ways to work up your Anger'. I was fairly surprised giving someone a thrashing with a mediocre self-help book didn't appear in that book once. Instead, there were instructions for managing stress, a list with ten things that could help you getting down after a fit of anger ad a list of phobias, such as the fear of snakes, heights, the darkness and even dogs.

"Did you find anything yet?" Bertrand inquired; one of this poorly hidden tries to start a conversation. The times he'd asked before, I'd always remained silent, but by now, I thought a talk was surely better then reading a book that was supposed to help me with problems I did not have.

"To be honest, no." I replied. From over my book I could see Bertrand's startled expression. I could tell that he had not expected me to answer this time, repeating his question as to have something to do. (Or he had an LP stuck in his head, causing him to repeat the same sentence all over again.)

"This book is absolute rubbish." I declared, holding it up. "I wish I had something productive to do instead."

Bertrand moved away from the wall in a speed I'd not think he was able to, snatching it out of my hands a soon as he reached the desk I was sitting on (which was, by the way, facing the wonderful, dreary concrete walls of Spectra's office. Had this once been a closet, or what?).

"If it's that what you think, you'll not need it anymore, will you?" he said coolly.

Oh, great. Detention with nothing to do. Wonderful.

Bertrand opened his magazine again and buried his mustached nose into it. I wondered what was that interesting about psychology. Maybe this magazine told you to take the book you gave your patient earlier on away to bore them to death. Or something like this.

A soft look interrupted my thoughts and made both of us look towards the door.

"Is the doctor here?"

"No." Bertrand replied, his nose still buried in his magazine. "But you can leave a message."

The pawl was pressed down, and a tall person entered the room. I was beyond surprise to see that it was Johnny; of all the people to enter the room he was certainly not ranked on top of the list. Yet he marched into this office, right in front of my eyes.

"The doctor said I had an appointment with her today," Johnny began, having not yet noticed me sitting on the desk next to him. "At half past three, which means now."

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait until Doctor Spectra comes back, Mr…?" Bertrand asked as he closed his magazine again. "As you can see, she's got someone else right now."

Johnny looked into the direction Bertrand was pointing, and his gaze fell onto me. I went as red as a tomato, I'm sure.

"Hi." I muttered, and a small smile tugged on the corners of my mouth as I remembered the day we met first- I had had said exactly the same to him.

"Good afternoon," he replied politely. Bertrand flipped through the pages of his magazine again, asking:

"What's the message, now?"

Johnny seemed in loss of words to say, but this lasted only for a moment, and he said:

"Tel the Doctor I'll come back tomorrow afternoon, to-"

"Why don't you tell it to me in personal, Mr Owen?"

Somehow, Spectra had managed to enter the room without being noticed by either of us (well, except maybe Bertrand, who showed a king of mild interest for the whole thing).

"What were you going to say, Mr Owen?" Spectra said, and I guessed she'd stood in this corner for quite a while, even though I could not think of a way she could have entered the room without us noticing.

"I wanted to tell him," Johnny nodded over to Bertrand, who now slammed the book back onto the desk I was sitting on, "that I'll come back tomorrow, for my appointment, you know."

"That'd be necessary, I think." Spectra said. "I've found an emergency case in the Lunch Room, and I'm afraid I can't have any other appointments today. You may now go." She eyed both of us over the rim of her shades suspiciously, and I suddenly had the impression I'd done something wrong. Poindexter's warning came back to my mind. Was he right? Was something strange about Spectra?

I got up, albeit a bit too quick, so my chair was knocked over and landed on the floor with a resounding clang. Johnny hurried over to me, putting up the chair quickly. I t was almost as though he'd something to with it, I thought for a moment...

"Mrs Cannon, you can go home now. Unless some others, you still have on, hn?" Spectra said with a dry smile around her mouth. I decided to ignore her pun, and left the room, Johnny on my tail.

As soon as we stood on the hallway, Johnny took my hand, and we both rushed out of the school building. But it was already too late, when we went around the corner that led to the bus stop, we could see the last bus for today pulling around the corner, then vanishing from sight.

We were completely soaking by now, our hair plastered to our faces by the water coming from above. The rain felt like pricks on the bare skin of my legs and arms.

"That's exactly why I don't want to go here, dig it?" Johnny grumbled. I believe I must have been looking quite puzzled, because all of sudden, Johnny began to laugh.

His laughter is somehow hoarse, not the brass-bell sound you'd expect on a good-looking guys like him. But I like it; I even liked it back in this rain, soaking and with the prospect of two angry parents at home.

"Every time I go in there, somethin' strange happens," he explained. "Lights flash on and off, vases suddenly topple over, gas pipes break… it's like I'm draggin' bad luck with me, dig it?"

"Gas pipes?" I shook my head. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"No," he said sternly. "It happened in my second year here at Casper, the year the y started to call me 'Johnny 13'. They even had a rhyme ready for me…"

_Flashback… 5 years ago, Johnny's junior year._

"_Johnny 13, more bad luck then ever seen!" the crowd jeered, repeating it like some macabre cheer. "Johnny 13, more bad luck then ever seen!"_

_Johnny sat on the last seat in the school bus, trying to ignore the chat that rose up around him. A spitball hit him in the face, right smack in the centre of his head, and he shook it to get rid of the sticky substance._

"_Johnny's always the bad boy, if there's bad luck, we know why!" a student said into his ear, and he turned his head around. This rhyme didn't even rhyme; did it mean they were getting tired of taunting him?_

_Later, on the hallway, he got his answer._

_No, they still _loved_ taunting him. Same as ever, he thought as he found himself in his own locker, facing the door, and barely able to see something through the small vertical slits in it._

"_I wish I could get payback somehow!" he said, banging against the door, hoping someone would free him. But everyone was in class, so it was no use. He'd get detention for staying out of class again, and would get home late yet again. As usual. He'd miss the last bus, also as usual._

_Suddenly, screams rang out in the hallway in front of him, and his locker's door was swung open. He crashed to the floor with a nasty crunch, and waddled out of the reach of thousands of stampeding feet next to him._

"_What's happened?" someone cried out, the scream mingling with thousand other sounds._

"_Gas pipes exploded, were getting' evacuated!"_

_Johnny shook his head; this could not be what he was thinking… did he just get what he wanted to? His payback?_

_Through the glee, something else made its way: Fear. Did this mean he was responsible for the school being evacuated? Wouldn't he get even more trouble because of this?_

_End of Flashback… back to present day._

Johnny looked at his hands, suddenly contempt in the sight of it. Then, he abruptly changed the subject.

"The last bus is surely gone for now, isn't it?"

I nodded. "I guess I'll just have to walk today. It isn't that far anyway…"

That was a lie; if I went by bus, it took my about half an hour to get to school and back, and if he wanted to go by foot, it'll surely take about twice as long.

"Wanna go by bike?" Johnny offered, putting one hand on my shoulder. The unexpected move made me shudder.

"My cat's just around the corner, you can take a ride if you wanna. It's not first class, but I hope it'll do. Come on, my cat's just around this corner."

"Cat?" I said in confusion.

Johnny laughed again. "My cat's my bike, she's just purrin' like one, that's why I call that that, Kitten." He paused, and to me, it looked like a child being caught in the act. "D'you mind me callin' you Kitten?"

No, totally not. The name reminded me of my cat, Pewter, who was waiting up in my room now, probably snuggled into my pillow.

"No, I don't, it sounds cool." I admitted. "It's way cooler than my real name."

Johnny looked at me, and felt like drowning in those deep blue eyes of his.

"So you're my Kitten now." he said. "My cat and my Kitten."

We went around the corner, where Johnny had parked his motorcycle. It was a big thing, and did not look as though it would last for very long. A huge number 13 was painted on both sides of the engine block, making it impossible for anyone to miss it.

"You take the rear seat, will you?" Johnny said, and I climbed up onto the bike, holding tight onto Johnny's coat.

"Johnny, this thing does not look like it's gonna survive for too long." I said, and he turned around.

"I got it from somebody who obviously wanted to get rid of the thing. Sold it on the street, held me up when I was going for a stroll in the town." Johnny explained. "Was in a really bad condition, kept coughing up smoke- mind you, it still does- but I'm happy with how it is. At least I don't have to go by bus now."

There was a point on what he was saying, and I nodded. Johnny stepped hard on the accelerator, the engine roared like an animal, and off we went.

How am I going to describe my feelings? Never in my whole life had I felt so free, as though any boundaries were broken, neither rules nor law could affect me now. The rain kept drumming down on us, sounding like a weird rhythm following us where ever we went.

Everything just felt great, but there was still something I needed to know.

"Johnny!" I yelled over the sound of the engine, and he stepped on the brake immediately, swerving to the side of the road.

"What's up, Kitten?"

I brushed through my wet hair. "Why didn't you tell me your real last name on the day we met first?"

Johnny turned around so I could se his face, relaxed, his arm on the back seat. "It's some thing between me and the others," he said indifferently, as though he did not quite care for it at all. "Remember what I told you about me bein' a jinx? The other s started to call me Johnny 13 after the first few thing went wrong. It wasn't much back then, but they're a bunch of superstitious cowards in there. Actually, I like this name much more then an my old one, it reminds me of my Dad, and I don't like being reminded of him, did it?"

I said that I did feel the same about my first name, and he replied that he couldn't stand being called Jonathan, too. A similarity between us.

"Anyway, d'ya wanna stay here all night?" Johnny asked finally. "'Cause I'm getting awfully cold, y'know."

Chose exactly this moment to let off a huge sneeze. Johnny muttered something about how people should use a handkerchief for that, and then started digging around in his jacket pockets, retrieving a scarf.

"Here," he said. "Put that on, before you get any worse, will ya? I don't like the colour anyway, it makes me look girlish. But you'll look just great in it, thrust me."

I put the scarf around my neck, feeling the soft touch of the cotton wool.

"It's perfect." I whispered. "I love it."

"Gah, you can keep it." Johnny waved me off. "As I said, I don't really dig the thing."

Maybe it did not quite match my blue skirt, but I loved the scarf notheless. Not so much because it kept me warm (though it surely did), but much more because it came from him, he gave it to me when he could have been keeping it for himself. I did not believe that it did not match him; it was surely just camouflage to hide his offer, I was determined about that.

Johnny accelerated hard, and we sped off into the late afternoon.

A gorgeous feeling, I have to repeat.


	7. Happy again?

**A/N: **A new chapter- lol I'm so creative nowadays!

**Summary: **Kitty has to deal with her somehow stubborn parents in this, and remembers a time she was happy still. Will she ever be that girl again?

**6**

I got home quite late, but both Mom and Dad worked into the late afternoon, so I had the house for myself. After a shower, I put on dry clothes, and tried to dry my hair as well, but looked like a poodle with a perm afterwards, so I let it as it was.

It was past five when I finally found some time for myself. Pewter, who'd forgiven me over the past weeks, came on to have a cuddle, and a started to stroke her behind her ears softly.

"You don't have to worry about boys, attention or stuff like that, do you?" I muttered, playing around on the radio I had stolen from the living room (it was not really stolen, I just borrowed it, because my mother couldn't – or rather wouldn't- afford an own radio for me) and put on my room's floor. Eventually, I found something that suited my taste (it was Bill Haley by the way).

The rain had stopped, and with the sun shining so brightly outside my window, I was tempted to leave and have a look for Johnny, maybe to get another ride. But alas, I could not afford being caught outside the house again, not after what had happened in school that day.

When six o' clock finally rolled around, I put the radio back into the living room, knowing that Dad would come a quarter past. I watched the car pulling up in our driveway, and ran downstairs to greet him, as I was doing every day.

But today, things were different.

After Dad put his jacket, scarf and hat into the wardrobe, he turned around to me, and my smile faded as I saw how stern he was.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, and I suddenly felt very small, like a mouse caught by a cat, knowing this would not end well.

"Dad, I did not want to do it, I didn't plan it." I said, almost pleadingly. "It's just due to the counsellor and her creepy little assistant."

Dad frowned. "Putting things off as somebody other's fault won't help you here," he said. "If there's something you want to tell me about, I'm all ears."

"I-" I hesitated. Would it really help me to tell Dad what had happened? Would he understand it?

I breathed in deeply, and began to tell him the whole story, from the moment I had found Sidney Poindexter in the locker, over the conversation between Spectra and me and how I ditched school and ran away. Dad listened to me, all the time standing in the middle of the hallway. When I was finished, he still said nothing, so I added:

"Do you know this feeling when you like two bo-, err, persons, and both of them think you'll choose him?"

Dad had to smile. At least he wasn't angry with me anymore, I thought. That's at least something.

Dad came over to me, embracing me in a tight hug. Suddenly, I was taken years back, when I still lived in Harrisburg, a place I now knew I shouldn't even have thought of leaving. Thoughts raced in my mind, and one of them was going back to Harrisburg as soon as I was finished with High School. I could do it; I knew I could. And maybe, one of the boys could come with me.

It was this moment when I decided I couldn't tell my father the complete truth; somehow I couldn't picture him understanding it all.

"Dad, I can't decided which of the boys I like more: the reliable or the cool one?" I whispered to his ear. "What'd you do?"

Dad loosened his grip around my shoulders and I looked into his face. "I would wait until I find it out on my own, Kitty." he said. "Time will show you."

I brushed through my hair, so unlike my Dad's. He had black hair, but I inherited his eyes, chestnut coloured. "That's maybe just a matter of how you feel like, Kitty."

He let go of me, and went over to the kitchen. "Do you care for a tea, darling?"

I said I'd like one, and followed him into the kitchen. Dad was boiling water with the immersion heater, and while waiting for the water to be hot we just sat opposite each other, saying nothing. Dad put some tea into two cups, and told me not to burn on he scalding tea. I managed a weak smile, and said I wouldn't, and took a sip of the tea. Rose Hip. Not my exact favourite, but what counted was that I was with my Dad, and he'd dome it for me.

And eventually, I confessed the part of the story I hadn't yet told to Dad, including what Sidney had said. Dad said nothing still, and I felt better after telling the complete truth. Dad would help me, I knew.

After the tea, I went up to my room. Dad might have been an understanding person, but he had work to be done, notheless, and I had some homework to be done, too. So I sat down on my desk, unpacking my stuff. A photo album laid on my bed, pictures to the ceiling. I had been looking at it before I set to work, and one of the pictures rather caught my attention. It showed me and my cousin back when we were younger, ten maybe. My hair was longer back then, I hadn't cut it until my eleventh birthday, and Puppy had always said she wanted hair as long and silky as mine. So this had to be what year? 1950? I did not know, but I was sure I was a different person back then. One with lesser problems, and parents who could be trusted in without asking questions.

The sound of the door being opened caught my attention. I went over to the door and opened it a crack. Mom had come home, but I somehow didn't feel like runnin down and moaning the whole story to her, too.

To my surprise, Dad caught her in the hallway, and dragged her off into the kitchen. I scurried down the stair, to the kitchen's closed door. Upon pressing an ear to the door, I could hear Mom and Dad talking.

"Christian, I don't have time for this now, I have to work!" That was Mom, even if she hadn't her trademark voice, I would have recognized her.

"You'll have." Dad said. "Kitty came to me today, and told me some adventurous story about some ghosts or something who lured her into skipping school yesterday. I don' know what to do, I think she's… she's a bit mixed up…"

I could hear my mother gasping. "You think she's loosing it? Gone mad?"

Dad sighed. "You could express it this way, I'm afraid. This does not make any sense without it."

I felt as though someone had slapped me. My parents seemed to think I'd lost it, went mad, lost the marbles, lost my mind, went crazy…

I stormed up the stairs, slammed my room's door, and jumped onto my bed, burying my face in my pillow. "I hate Amity Park!" I moaned, loud enough for anyone down to hear it. But my parents were too wrapped up in their discussion to notice it.

Elvis kept smiling down at me, and for a moment, I thought I saw some movement on the poster in front of me. I shook my head, that was ridiculous.. Was I really going insane? Were Mom and Dad right?

Was I loosing my mind?

I didn't know.

**A/N: **In the next chapter you might recognize one of the DP ghosts other than Poindexter, Johnny and Kitty. The firsto ne to guess right gets a cookie!


	8. A Nerd's Death

**A/N: **New Chapter, for all the nice people who sent me reviews and made me want to continue this fanfiction!

**Summary: **Some more very strange happenings around mrs Spectra, and something quite drastic happens. No I'm not spoiling my own fic, you'll need to find out on yourself.

**7**

Wednesday- a quite normal day.

Well, considering the fact I cried all through the night and ignored my mother coming up to tell me it was time for dinner. But so far, no one in school seemed too keen on picking at me; they just ignored me as they did always. And it was quite equal to me. As Johnny had predicted, I learned to cope with it, and sooner than you'd expect.

After weeks of unstable weather, we finally got something like a heat wave rolling over Amity. The sun seemed to have gotten out of her cave she'd been in over the summer holidays, and was shining that much you'd think she had a price to win. I had swapped my blouse with a lighter, sleeveless top, and chose a shorter skirt, but the Librarians were wearing their usual garb: Shirts and ties over plain or chequered trousers, complete with saddle shoes. It was surprising they did not melt straight away, if you ask me at least.

Students who came out of counsellor's office, on the other hand, were violently shivering. It looked as though they'd walked into a fridge, not an office, and those who'd been asked (and not too cold to answer) told Spectra usually had the air conditioner on- on a level that made their breath freeze in mid-air. After the first few students came out of the office, there was a bolt for Spectra's office, and that even though everyone who came out looked a bit _too_ pale and did usually not want to talk about what Spectra had told them. It seemed that students did _everything_ to get a bit cooler.

I personally though the reason they did not tell anything about their encounter with Penelope Spectra was similar to my. I would have given quite a lot to know what exactly happened behind those doors.

My life so far was quite peaceful, even though the Librarians now found a new kind of sport for them to do. They would suddenly burst out of classrooms, blocking my way and asking me random things about Sidney, things like 'Why did you decide to help him at the first place?' and 'Is there anything going on between you?' The worst of it wasn't the questions. It got really nasty when I wanted to go to the ladies between two lessons and suddenly one of those geeks would turn up and tackle me to the wall with his or her questions. This usually resulted in me having slightly wet underwear or coming late to classes. When we had a class with Mr Evans next, I rather risked having a wet panty than coming late, because our homeroom teacher turned out to be especially nasty when students were late. (I don't wanna go into details her, thank you very much.)

On Friday, I got stuck at home with an awful cold, despite the fact it was still sweltering hot outside. My Mom pestered me with cold compresses and all sorts of newly developed medicine. I, on the other side, was thinking about the irony of it all. It was baking outside (we had October at the time, by the way…), and I came down with a cold. I slowly got the impression that the bad luck was following _me_ around, not Johnny.

On Tuesday the next week, I was able to go to school again (my Mom promptly credited it to compresses and hot -translates with scalding here- chicken soup, the average home remedies of a woman). Five days don't seem too long, but for me, it was enough to make a world collapse (literally.)

Instead of the peppy coloured banners that adorned the walls five days ago, there were black clothes draped all over the walls. My question whether anybody had died was returned with an awkward silence, even those who'd been assailing me with questions about Sidney, said nothing when I asked them.

When the day moved on, I found out what happened exactly after two lessons of thinking the matter over. I spent my last money on one of the Librarians - they always had use for money. I suppose they use it to buy their daily dose of books.

Early on Monday morning (after Gail McGregor, our school's head cheerleader, had held her usual pep talk), someone had voiced the question of Sidney Poindexter's whereabouts. Ten minutes later, somebody (maybe even the same person) had noticed one of the lockers standing slightly ajar.

Sidney, who hadn't turned up for about a week now, was found in his locker. Somebody (most likely one of the jocks or the junior football player) had stuffed him into his locker the afternoon he talked to me about Spectra's assumed car accident. When slammed shut again, the door somehow got damaged again, and Sidney couldn't breathe… No wonder, if you consider the three small slits in the locker, anyone would have passed on.

And here comes the scary part: That day, a pile of boxes propped up really insecure fell down and smashed our janitor to death. No idea what he was doing with a whole pile of cardboard boxes, but considering the fact he had to with them almost daily, I guess there's an explanation for that, they're just to lazy to tell us. Anyway, this killed our poor old janitor; it eventually turned out that the boxes held really big metal vices supposed to be used for home economics one day. Well, now I guess they'll abstain from using them in the near future.

After our janitor was dead (this went unnoticed until Monday, too, don't ask me why,), there was no one left who even had the slightest interest in Poindexter. The person asking for him was actually a jock searching for somebody to do his homework (and maybe his chores if he felt like torturing the poor guy some more).

Poindexter got suffocated in his own locker, and my school ball dance just went down the drain, as Johnny would express it.

I guess now you're thinking something like: Aren't you sad? Haven't you cried? After al, he was your school ball date.

And I can just say: yes, I have. I cried almost through the whole day, and even skipped Geography (wasn't worth it anyway) to spent the time on the ladies', bawling my eyes out.

When I was wiping my eyes with a paper towel, there was a loud echoing bang, followed by the usual sound of the end-of-period bell. I looked up, and saw a long, zigzagging crack in the ceiling. A rustling noise rang out, and the bell started to ring again. Our headmaster's voice could be heard through all the hallways and even on the ladies':

"All students are to assemble in the auditorium. Staff members will follow. I repeat: All students assemble in the auditorium. Staff members will follow."

I clenched my fist, crumbling the paper towel I still held in my hand. Footsteps echoed through the hall, resounding in the almost empty toilet. I sighed, and opened the door a crack. Sniffing down the last of my tears, I tried to hide my emotions and disappeared in the crowd as good as I could.

Half of the school's population crammed the hallways, and I had no trouble blending in. Obviously, no one had missed me and no one had reported me ditching Geography (not even this sneak George Hammond who _lives_ on tattling on somebody), and I thought this was just good for me. I wouldn't be kept in after school again.

The assembly hall was overcrowded; students even had to stand up to make way for the seniors among the staff members (I think if Mrs Spectra senior was still there, she'd have a whole row all for herself). I could see the Lunch Ladies all piled up in one corner, gossiping away heavily (but in hushed voices). I guess if you're stuck with preparing lunch all day, you welcome any chance to talk away.

The Goths sat exactly opposite the Ladies. Actually, those were the only people in the whole school that looked as though they were attending a funeral or something. Well, they always wear black and look like coming out of some strange, creepy event, I'd say, so it was maybe not completely in honour of the deceased.

"Listen up, everyone!"

Just after I found a seat in the middle row, our principal started the assembly.

"We're here in honour of two great men, both dieing when they did what they could do best," Mrs Wintergast said.

What kinda rubbish was this? Since when was Sidney Poindexter a 'great man'? And I did not really think being smashed by a ton of mouldy boxes was what our janitor could do best. Not that he actually did much else, mind you.

After our principal had finished (a quarter of an hour of boredom), the captain of our football team, the Casper Ravens, had a word about Poindexter. He ,too, said something about ' a great buddy' and a 'good friend'- Yeah, when he was doing your homework, sure.

Gail, head of our cheerleaders, had something to say, too, and even told a mushy story about how our janitor once retrieved her bracelet and the golden locket out of the toilet (I don't know how it got in there, and please don't make me find out.)

Miss Myers, homeroom teacher of the eight grade, told us something about how 'good people always stay in our heart'.

As I said, yeah, sure. I'll be laughing my head off if anyone remembers Poindexter after we leave this room.

"Would anyone else like to say something about this?" Miss Myers concluded her speech ('nother quarter of an hour boredom- I could hear some of the jock s in the back rows snore).

Silence.

Miss Myers raised one eyebrow. "None?"

Surprise, surprise. I'd been able to tell her that even before she asked.

"I'd like to say something."

I sun around on my seat, along with about thirty others. This voice- could it be…?

"If you'd make way for me up there, I'd love to tell my mates something about good ol' Poindexter." Johnny 13 said.

I-and everyone else in the auditorium- followed Johnny going up to the stage, eyes glued to his worn out grey coat.

On this exact stage Poindexter had stood about a week ago, telling us something about the pep you could get by reading books ( or something among those lines, I did not quite pay attention to this thing, just got the essentials).

Johnny took the microphone offered to him by the teacher. Adjusting it, he scanned the audition until he found my face among all those others.

"If there's one thing about Sidney P. Poindexter I really know, then it's that he had no friends," Johnny started. "Not a single one ever said 'Hey, dude, I like you' when he was alive. So how come everyone in this room has one or two stories to tell, stories that al carry the same message: Sidney was a close friend of about half of the school! But that's only what we can hear of those who are still alive and with us now. D'ya wanna hear the truth, I ask?"

As no one responded, Johnny went on. It took me by surprise that he even managed to silence the Lunch Ladies who'd been discussing the next lunch all the time before.

"I would like to remind you of something. Remember the week when our janitor found Poindexter tied to the flagpole last year? It turned out that the football team had done it, after their order for the new mascot's costume got lost."

The captain of our football team, the exact one who'd declared Poindexter as a close friend of his ten minutes ago, stared down to his shoes standing on the dirty tiles covering the floor.

"I've got more." Johnny said, addressing the cheerleaders this time. "Who could ever forget the day our cheerleaders managed to lock Poindexter into he ladies locker room and then laughed at him as he lost his pants when trying to get out? A good joke, a nice bash, you say?

I don't think so."

No one dared to say anything, but I could see that the teachers were all getting quite edgy, probably thinking about yanking Johnny off the stage.

No bad idea, I secretly thought.

" And then all the times people kept stuffin' him into his locker or taking him for a 'swim' in the boy's toilet." Johnny said. "I'm fairly surprised he didn't die when some of you pressed his face underwater. He kept coughing up water for days."

Evans now whispered something to Bertrand, who'd been standing next to him all the time, a look of mild interest on his face again, and not moving or even flinchin' once, like a statue carved in marble. Creepy.

Bertrand walked over to Spectra, and started to whisper something into Spectra's ear himself. I wondered what it was all about. Alas, I had the feeling that Johnny would have not much time to speak left.

And then there's the way he died two days ago," Johnny said. "Suffocated in his own locker, wasn't he? Wonder if anyone will dare to occupy this thing in the near future, now that it's killed somebody? Who will dare to occupy locker number 247 now that it's haunted?"

Johnny breathed in deeply. "Because, you know, Poindexter has to make out somethin' with those who taunted him back when he was alive, using him as kickball or beating him with a bat or stuff. Mark my words, Poindexter will get on those who portray themselves as close friends of his after his death!"

"MR OWEN, THAT'S IT!" Mrs Wintergast rushed onstage, grabbing the microphone out of his hands. But even without the loudspeakers, I could hear the argument going on on the stage, as could everyone else (well, except the old, almost deaf Mrs O'Connor, our oldest Lunch Lady. I think she even saw the war of independence).

"What a way to honour Sidney! With childish ghost stories!" Mrs Wintergast fumed.

"Better than the stuff the others kept spoutin', isn't it?" Johnny objected. "And I'm finished anyway, dig it?"

"No, you stay her and set things right again!" Mrs Wintergast screeched. I'd never seen her beside herself that much.

"I ain't did nothin' wrong, you!" Johnny spat, and for a moment I was sure he was going to say something rather crude. But thanks god he did not.

That moment, I could hear a crack about my head, lud enough to sound over all the voices and noise coming from onstage. This was followed by a rushing noise, like a waterfall coming down on us. Only moments later, the crack in the ceiling starter spitting water down at us. It only took _seconds_ for us to be completely soaking.

Electricity buzzed, and I realized what people mean when they say water and electricity do not mix well.

The reason is, it won't work out.

"EVERYONE OUT!"

Just a second before we all left the room, I saw something big loom over us, something like a shadow, though much, much darker.

But then, somebody closed the door behind me, and I could see no more. Somebody held onto me, and I could fell wet hair in my face. _Blond_ wet face.

"I've got ya, baby." Johnny 13 said as I buried my face in his mouldy old jacket.

"I told you bad luck kept stickin' to me like chewing gum to these floors." he said. "I think it'd be better if I kept skippin' school. I don't want to put my Kitten in danger."

I jerked my head up to look into his face. His hair was plastered to his face again, and he looked as though he'd been crying. However, his eyes were exactly the same blue as before.

"You can't leave school- not now!" I begged. "You've got nothing to do with this whole stuff!"

Johnny gently shoved me away from him, but said nothing.

"I can't stay," he said simply, as though I had asked him about the weather.

"Do it for me!" I said. "Stay for me"§

I could see that Johnny was hesitant. He looked back and forth from me to the hallway we were standing in. "I don't know…" he said slowly.

"Mr Owen!"

We both turned around. Spectra was marching towards us, her red hair as red as ours. Those made her look like a poodle left in a rainstorm in my opinion.

"Mr Owen, during your, err, free speech, Mr Evans contacted my assistant. Bertrand carried on the idea that I should come to your house, to have a little talk to your father."

"What's up?" Johnny said, his eyes narrowing. "Why should you want to speak with my old guy?"

Spectra did not respond to this. "Bertrand will slip you a note telling you the exact date and time of our meeting. And if your father won't let anyone into the house, the meeting will be held in my office, of course. Have a nice day."

And off she was.

(Did I tell you how much I hate that she always ends her bad news with 'have a nice day', even though we won't be having one, after the things she told us?)

"It seems that you've got no other choice than to stay here-at least until you know what Spectra is so desperate about telling your father."

"Ah, go lick my ass, both of you!" he cursed. "I say I wanna leave, because you're ten times safer without me, an' you keep tellin' me to stay! Isn't it enough for you that I am already a jinx to about half of the school? The juniors even choke at their food when I enter the cafeteria!"

This felt like a slap to my face. I felt tears running down my cheeks, mingling with the water on my face, which was by now red and hot. My face flushed when I snapped back at him.

"What do you mean? I can keep out an eye out for me bloody well, thank you very much!" I fumed. "And whoever said you were a jinx was wrong. Do you hear me: WRONG! Wrong like something! Do I need to spell that out for you: W-R-O-N-G!"

Johnny spat to the floor. "I don't need you, I can manage this on my own bloody well!" he hissed. "Have a nice life, 'Coz I won't be hangin' around you any longer!"

And he just left. Left me in this hallway, alone, soaking wet and with a heart that was broken twice, like a twig in the wind.

--

**A/N:** ou somehow knew he was going to die, didn't you? And so far, no one's guessed the random ghost that will appear in the next chapter or so. Keep those guesses coming though.

At a siden ote, I'm planning on doing similar thing for Ember and Skulker and for Youngblood as well. What do oyu think about it?


	9. Returned From The Death?

**8**

We were dismissed earlier that day, and everyone made a bolt for the buses in order to get home as quickly as possible. Those who left were probably waiting to get a bus to the Amity Cemetery, because they really wanted to attend Poindexter's funeral. Weird. I personally had had enough of dead people for a while now.

After the last one had gotten onto the bus left the school, I was completely alone, sitting on the front steps of the school, still crying, but hoping Johnny would turn up eventually and offer me a ride on his bike.

But he never came.

In fact, Johnny did not show up for another five days, even though I stayed at school even past the last buses at half past four. Mom and Dad did not ask why I kept coming home late every day, and I did not tell them that I was walking home all the time since Monday. I thought they did not even know about Johnny, so how were they supposed to understand my problems?

Finally, it came. The day I'd been dreading and looking forward at one time for nearly a week.

The night of the fall dance.

I had no one to go with, since my old date got suffocated to death, and Johnny was as far away from asking me out as possible. I sighed and looked out of my room's window.

It was Halloween today, and kids were running around everywhere. I could see a group of younger children, dressed as a witch, a black cat and a ghost. Some random hairy monster was running around behind them, and I thought that this had to be another weird costume of them.

When I put on the silver chocker my mother had handed me today morning, I could not help but wonder what the others would think and say about me. They'd probably just taunt me, as they'd done with Johnny, calling him a jinx… which was enough to make him break with me after only a few days because he accused himself of things he couldn't have done. He even called himself Thirteen now when a teacher was asking about him, I heard rumours going around.

The silver chocker was heavy and glistered in the yellowish lights of a streetlamp I could see through my window. I looked fantastic, I knew it, but I could not feel good because of it. I did not know what I did this for.

Not for Johnny, that was for sure.

But why then? I looked at me in the mirror of my wardrobe. The dress I put on was a hand-me-down from my grandmother as well as the choker. She wore this at her graduation from High School, and at almost every school ball she was invited to at the last two grades. It was almost creepy; as though this dress had seen things I would never get to see… Like I would never be able to see my own graduation, rubbish.

Yet I hoped I would be able to win back Johnny's heart some day.

My Dad stepped on the brake, and I was awakened from a ragged sleep I had slid into during the ride. The almost full moon shone into my eyes as I opened them, and I had to blink. "Are we there yet?"

Dad had gotten out of the car meanwhile, and held the door open for me. "We are, princess."

I wrinkled my nose. Princess- Dad had called me that when I was seven, at the most, and I did not think it fit me now, being a senior in High School." Dad, please." I took his hand and stepped out of the car carefully. The shoes I had borrowed from my mother for this special occasion were a real pain- I could just barely stand with them, let alone walk… or more like totter around. "Thanks."

"Have a nice evening, darling." Dad said. "I'll be here at eleven, so please don't be late." He squeezed my hand tightly, and I responded, without really knowing I did. "Bye, Dad. Take care of Pewter for me, will ya?"

Dad laughed as he pulled back, waving to me. I sighed as I looked around.

Everyone was holding a partner at their side. Except for me, they all had a date. I could feel another prick of pain in my stomach (that added to the fact I had eaten nothing today, and the bit I'd eaten ended up in the toilets).

Plastic bats were draped over the branches of the trees, nearly hidden from sight by the yellowing leaves, and a few jack-o-lanterns lit up the way to the school. Laughter and bits of talking came drifting out to me standing in the shadows of one of the trees. The lanterns cast their eerie shadows on the brick walls of the school, and I watched them for a moment, until I was sure everyone else had gone in already.

"Hey, Miss!"

I looked up to see two boys waving at me from over the street. Both had Halloween costumes on, one, the taller of the two wore a blanket that was a little too short for him, the other was wearing the obligatory Dracula-costume-a black cape, a red bow-tie and fake fangs.

"What?!" I snarled back, even though I had not reason to be angry with them at all.

The ghost boy shook his head and yelled: "Never mind." And he and his vampiric little friend quickly strode off.

A cold breeze swept by, and I suddenly longed to be inside, for I hoped it would be somehow warmer there.

The hallways were lined with happy couples, drinking some of the self-made stuff the cafeteria sold for the ball dance or sharing a cuddle. They all seemed like from another planet to me back then. I have been my imagination, but I saw them throwing disdainful looks at me that told me all too clear that hey didn't welcome me there. I wasn't par to f their world.

I did not even bring a boyfriend with me.

About one hour later, I was definitively bored to death. Sipping on a glass with the obnoxious stuff you could get from the Lunch Ladies, I tried to avoid looking all the happy people around me. I mean, I even saw some of the Librarians having a dance with someone, come on!

I stepped aside to avoid being trod on by Mr Evans, who danced a slow waltz with our school's nurse, Miss Brittany (Don't laugh, that's her actual name!). Mr Donelly, a bulky man who took sports and science for the sophomore and junior classes, danced with Spectra. I looked around searchingly, for I'd been sure Spectra would have a dance with her assistant, and finally found Bertrand, standing in a corner, a sandwich (also sold by the Lunch Ladies) in one hand, staring over to Spectra as though he wished to be dancing wit her.

The auditorium was used as a party room today; adorned festively, with small lamps shaped like skulls lining the walls and false maple leaves dangling from the ceiling to make it look more autumn-ish. On the far end of the room, our school's music band played popular songs so all the couples had something to dance to.

Upon watching all those people being happy and dancing, I suddenly wondered whether Johnny was here, too. Had he found someone to go with? And therefore, not thought of asking me out?

I quietly sneaked out of the ball dance room and strolled around in the hallways. The central heating was not switched on for the entire school building, and it was freezing cold in the hallways; I could have been going out as well. My feet started to hurt from walking in high heels all the time, and I wished I'd stayed home today.

There was no one in the hallway anymore; they all were in the auditorium, from where I could hear bits of music drifting out to me. I put my arm around a non-existent body, imagining I had someone to dance with and nobody had any reason to stare at me anymore. My steps echoed through the hallway, making it sound as though about five or six others were dancing along with me, too.

This is why I thought it to be an echo of my own steps, but as I looked around and the echoes ceased slowly, I could still hear quick steps running along a corridor quite close to the one I was in just then. A second later, I saw a motion, a shadowy thing squirming around just in front of me. The steps ceased, and I tried to keep up with them, my high heels clattering in the dull tiles that lined the floor. The other steps- the ones I could have been imagining, too- were nearly drowned, but every time I thought I lost them, I saw a fuzzy something appear in front of me again, as though someone wanted me to lead me to something.

Even though I knew it was ridiculous, I kept on running, eventually just to be kept busy with something. Everything was better than standing in this chilly corridor with nothing but bitter thoughts as company.

I ran, soon not even recognizing I did so.

Down another hallway.

Left.

Right.

Down an aisle, then-

I stood in front of a small, black door. I did not need to read the sign next to the door to know that his was the door leading down to the basement, a place students were usually forbidden to go to. And after what had happened a few weeks ago, no one ever thought of daring to go down, since it was believed to be haunted.

I leaned against the wall, panting, noticing that the door stood slightly ajar.

The teachers always closed the doors. Always.

Yet this door stood open wide enough for me to see the first few steps that led down there. A chill crept down my spine, and I gulped, knowing that what was down there was the answer to all my questions.

I extended one hand. The pawl was cool and did not feel though someone had touched it in quite a while. Was it possible that the person running away from me had found this door open as it was and just slipped into? Maybe he- or she- was already waiting down there… trapped, because this door was the only one leading to the basement, except for one small door, but this one was sealed with a huge metal chain and an old rusty lock. Not even the janitor had a key to it, I think.

"Kitty…"

I let go of the pawl as though I had burned by fingers.

"Kitty…."

I breathed in deeply, my breasts heaving up and down under the red lace of my dress heavily. Who the devil was down there?

I stepped down the first few steps, trying to see what was going on down without having to go down the stairs completely. But it did not help n the slightest; the stairs simply vanished into the darkness, and even though I could see a faint spark of light in the distance, I cold not be completely sure as long as I wasn't down there.

Maybe I should have been going up a-

BANG.

The slam of the door sent dust particles flying up into the air, making me sneeze, and I had to be careful not to fall down the staircase and risk breaking my neck right then.

"Kitty…"

I grasped around in the darkness, trying to find the banister to hold on. The sound of the voice so close to my ear nearly gave me a heart attack. And to make matters worse, I even thought I recognized the voice.

But he'd died weeks ago. That'd make no sense.

But my life wasn't sensible in the least ever since I moved over to Amity. If I was imagining things, who had slammed the door then, and who'd led me down there?

I breathed in a last time, carefully putting one foot in front of the other, my hand grasping for hold on the banister. I was half-blinded, and had to feel my way down rather than I could see anything. Down, I kept saying to myself, down, it isn't long anymore, you can do it…

And then, when I was down what I believed to be half the stairs, the thought struck my as lightning- out janitor had died down there, smashed to death. Was it possible that his ghost was lurking down there, waiting for me, so he could kill me the way he'd died?

No. There's no such thing as ghosts, I told myself sternly, tottering down the next few steps. You're talking rubbish.

In front of me, I could now see the faint outlines of another door, visible because of a feeble beam of light shining from under that door.

Someone was down there, waiting for me… the thought of ghosts quickly reappeared in my head, when I had just showed it aside as being impossible.

"Somebody down there?" I said feebly. Of course, someone who'd maybe be there wouldn't answer, I realized a moment later. But suddenly, the light under the door crack vanished, leaving me in total eclipse again. "Hello?" I searched for the pawl, groping around in darkness, when-

The door suddenly swung open, and I stared into light, blinding, dazzling and white.

"Who's there?"

--

**A/N:** There won't be too many uploads in the near future- I've still got school to attend, sorry, everyone. But be assured- I've already written the story till the start of Christmas Break, and I'll hopefully get to this very soon.

Until, then, Jamcub


	10. First Kiss Of October

**A/N: **Been to Italy, that's why there have been no uploads recently. It was really funny, and we had sun every day, not like in Germany, wher it keeps raining all day ;)

**Summary:** Here's Kitty receiving her first kiss, and some strange supernatural stuff happening.

**9**

Was it the voice of our janitor's ghost, coming to punish me because I had entered his realm?

"Kitty?" The light swerved away, leaving dark imprints of it floating around everywhere. But they could not conceal who was talking there.

"Johnny?" I asked. "Johnny 13?" I could not believe my luck.

"He flinched at the sound of his name. "What are you doing down here?"

"That's exactly what I wanted to ask you, Johnny," I said and stepped forth.

Rrrrrrrriiiiiiip.

I looked down, shocked to see that my floor-length dress was now ending a little way under my knee, exposing my shins and the black tights I had put on for today's occasion.

"What the..." I mumbled, trying to cover up my legs with what was left of my dress, of course with no avail.

"Johnny, I…" I desperately searched for words. "I did not know you were down here."

"So why did you ya come here in the first place?" Johnny inquired, still not really appreciating my unexpected company.

"You did not answer my question, Johnny," I replied. "And I guess you wouldn't believe my story, anyway."

Before either of us could say another word, a pile of boxes lying just behind the door I just stepped through somehow took flight (I really don't know if it fits the situation at all) and just floated across the room, like being pulled to it like on an invisible string. The pile crashed to the floor just in front of the door and blocked our way out- unless we dug our way through.

"Ouch!" I gasped when one of the boxes- a fairly small one, compared to the ones blocking the door- hit my back. I stumbled forward, and my rapid fall to the ground was just stopped by Johnny, who caught my in mid fall.

"Whoa, keep an eye out!" he said, and for a split moment I thought he'd laugh out, like he did on the day he drove me home through the heavy rain.

But that only lasted for a moment, and all too soon he was serious again.

"You wanted to know what I was doin', didn't you?" he said gloomily. "Well I came here to train Shadow."

"Who?" I said, looking out for something else but us in the dark room. "Are you trying to fool me, Johnny?"

"No, I'm tellin' the truth, Kitten. I came here to train my shadow."

He turned his flashlight back on and held it in away it illuminated his own rather lanky body. Behind him, on the dull concrete walls, a shadow was slowly rising up, swirling, shape shifting, until it took a shape that resembled Johnny. Johnny leaning against the wall, even though he did not move an inch.

"Shadow, come here," Johnny commanded, and amazingly enough, I could see that this black whatever-it-was did as it was told; it floated over to Johnny, yet he was careful to stay out of he bright light beam coming from the flashlight.

"He does not really like strong light, y'know," Johnny explained. "Thus, he usually stays outta the way as long there's strong light, but that does not mean he can't cause mayhem."

I suddenly remembered the black thingamajig I saw on the ceiling of the auditorium the day it was flooded. Johnny swerved the flashlight around and I had to shield my eyes. "But without a light," he said, "We wouldn't be able to see each other, dig it?"

I slowly nodded, even though my brain was still busy with comprehending what I had just seen; it was just too unbelievable. As I slowly took up what just happened, the thought of ghosts being around us grew stronger again. If there was something like a walking shadow, why couldn't there be ghosts as well? And what about the boxes that suddenly took flight?

"Now it's your turn," Johnny said, and I snapped out of my thoughts. "What?"

"You now tell me how you came down here, Kitten." Johnny explained. "Coz there's a ball up there you should be at."

"Well, I.." I stammered. After breathing in, the whole story burst out of me: I told Johnny about the fuzzy figure I saw that led me down to the cellar, and how the door slammed shut, and I wanted to find out who was rummaging down in the cellar. When I was finished, Johnny cautiously stroked his grey coat (he'd obviously not bothered with wearing a tuxedo, even though it was the fall dance tonight), and said:

"It's not unbelievable at all."

"Why?"

"If my shadow can have a life of it's own, which is freaking me out enough, there can be ghosts as well, ghosts playing tricks on us." Johnny said. I sighed. It felt good to have someone who shared my opinions about the whole thing.

"Does that mean the ghosts are spying on us?" I said.

"Spying, maybe following us," Johnny said. "I'm not sure, but those have to be people we once knew… though I have no idea why they should start picking on us like this."

CRASH.

The pile of boxes behind he suddenly collapsed as though someone had given a command, and I jumped away, yet a few of the boxes hit my back again, and for a moment I thought I was going down the same way as our janitor. "OUCH!" I was sure my back was black and blue by the time I arrived home.

And then, I somehow found myself in Johnny's arms, safe and sound.

And my lips were pressed tightly on his.

Johnny smelled of some kind of tobacco, a bit of alcohol (did he really drink that stuff?) and the after-shape he'd put on. And there were other smells, and tastes, like chewing gum and the smell of his greasy blond hair. Somehow I had the feeling he tasted strong, as though he was able to protect me from harm, whatever was coming out way.

"Wow." Johnny gasped when our lips parted- I can't recall if it was minutes or hours later- and put his hands in his large pockets. "Quite, erm, unexpected, huh? Did you know you taste like candy, did you know that?"

I did not waste time telling him that this was probably just because of the lipstick I'd put on, and just looked at him for a long while, not saying anything.

"Kitty?" he finally whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I love what you did with your dress. It looks way cooler this way." Johnny said. "I dig this look, you know?"

I nodded and asked: "so- so do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Not yet." he replied. "I have no date, you know? No one wants to go to the school ball with a jinx, you know?"

I laughed. "Well, maybe then I'm going to be the one exception from the usual."

"You want a date?" Johnny seemed to be really surprised by my unexpected offer. "With me?"

"Only if you want it, too." I said.

"But I don't have a tux, you'll make a complete goof outta you!" Johnny objected, obviously not wanting to bring up the topic of him being a jinx again.

"Just look at me!" I laughed. "My dress is in ruins, my hair full of cobwebs, and my shoes are broken, too. Can I look any more moronic#?"

Johnny had to smile. "I guess not, Kitten." He looked towards the door. "May I ask for the first dance?"

"Of course you may." I shuffled a few of the boxes aside, and Johnny helped me with the others, and eventually, the door was free of boxes again. Johnny opened the door, holding it open for me like a gentleman. "After you, m'lady."

I smiled at him warmly and stepped over the boxes cautiously. "Thank you, master." I mocked him, and he laughed again.

When we left the room, I guess I heard another laugh and a suppressed snicker, but that could have been my mind playing tricks on me, too. Either way, I did not really care if it was a human or supernatural force that brought us together again.


	11. Try Again

**A/N: **I'm sorry, Zippy, Ipromised to upload it on Friday, but never got around doing it. So I hope you'll forgive me and enjoy this new chapter of my fiction!

**Summary: **Enjoy some more tenderness between Johnny and Kitty, and a strange reaction of Kitty's...

**10**

"You can't be serious about that!" Gail said as Johnny and I passed her and her jock date, Roger, captain of the football team. "You and Johnny 13, that's absurd! You don't even have something in common!"

"Yeah, and the only thing you two have in common is the lack of a brain!" I shot back, careful to maintain the balance on my high heels.

Gail stared at my back when I left. There were unspoken words in this stare, words I'd rather not repeat here due to this being a kid-friendly story so far.

We crossed the ballroom with a few seconds (spare the little talk we had with Gail and Roger), and Johnny opened the back door- the door that led to the playground behind the school where I had once bawled my eyes out.

It was a perfect, starry night, without any clouds to block the sight, and the sky stretched overhead like a big piece of black-blue-ish silk, sprinkled with sparks. The moon looked as though made of pure sliver, a

"Isn't it perfect?" I whispered to Johnny. At the same time, I could not suppress a shiver. The cold and the fact I had just lost half of my dress now added together.

"Your cold?" Johnny asked and wrapped his coat around my shoulders. I now felt noticeably warmer, not only physically, but also in my heart.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Johnny," I said. "I didn't mean to, I was just a bit worked up, you know."

"So was I." Johnny whispered back, his face only inches away from my own. "And since I've had enough time to… you know, train my shadow properly, maybe we could do it again. No one would disturb us, I'd know a way to make sure of that."

He snapped, and I realized he was summoning his shadow again when I saw the black mass rising from the ground next to us, swallowing the lights around us, the stars and the faint glimmer from what I could see of the party going on in the auditorium.

"Sure." I now was sure no one would witness us, we were wrapped in darkness, and we moved closer, and closer, until I could smell his breath, when we were only inches away from touching-

The soft music coming from the auditorium suddenly stopped, followed by a loud thud and an echoing bang. Screams rang out.

"The decorations!" Obviously, I wasn't the only one who thought of the colourful maple leaves and somewhat silly plastic skulls and bat lining the walls of the auditorium. When we wheeled around, Johnny snapped: "I told you so!", and the magical moment was gone, as well as shadow, the moment the music stopped.

We both charged for the door, and Johnny nearly yanked it out of it holdings. When the door finally swung open, a horrible scenario met our both eyes.

The decorations, a large banner with pitch-black bats and fall leaves, had buried about ten students under it when it suddenly crashed down, even though no one could find an explanation for it. The super troupers that'd cast coloured light beam s down to create a somehow festive atmosphere on the dance floor, chose exactly this moment to crash down as well, burying a few students under it. The super troupers, which had cast coloured light at the dancing couples, were coming down right in front of our eyes. The glass punch bowl was shattered, and dozens of student hid behind the table and the pillars standing in each corner in the room.

"Oh my god!" I screamed. Miraculously, both Johnny and I were spared from the sharp shards flying around, as well as the punch seeping over the floor slowly. Screams now erupted whenever any of the statues made of papier mâche came down, tinted red from the punch.

"I told you so!" Johnny yelled in my ear; I though I was going to go deaf.

"_Jonathan Owen_!" someone yelled, barely audible through all the screams echoing around. Even though it was a riot around us, I recognized Gail, who'd searched shelter behind her jock date, Roger. "It's all your fault! Who said Poindexter would return to haunt us? Who was it? _Who_?"

"Gail!" I hissed. "Maybe you should go see your brain doctor. Maybe it turns out some of it has survived, despite seventeen years of not using it."

Gail's mouth snapped shut, sounding like a mousetrap, and she just stared at me, her fists clenched. Drenched in punch, her hair hanging into her face soaking wet, she looked rather like some Greek goddess I've heard of.

"How dare you to talk to me in such a disrespectful manner?" she spat at me. "You're not a jota better than your jinxed date, Johnny 13!"

It was as though something just broke inside of me, like on the day Spectra had tormented me like that. But instead of wasting my time with crying, I extended a hand and-

SMACK!

Gail's hands flew to her face, trying to cover up the red mark my hit had left. I meanwhile had put all of my remaining strength into this last strike, and now felt my power leaving me. If Johnny hadn't caught me, I would have fallen to the floor, smashing my head hard in the tiles.

"I got ya," Johnny said into my ear, and out of the corners of my eyes I could see that he was smiling at me. "You okay?"

I scrambled up- Gail stomping off, her face as red as the mark right now, Roger trailing behind her- and nodded. Now that I'd shown Gail what I thought of her, I _was_ okay. Better than I'd ever be, I thought. "I'm fine, just fine."

But Gail wasn't, I suppose. Roger patted her back shyly, looking at her in a manner that maybe was supposed to look caring and worried, but really looked rather dumb. _Actually_, he looked like someone who'd been told to buck someone up but didn't know what to say.

I looked around. On the opposite wall, Johnny's shadow was towering over everything else in the room, making it look as though the remaining lights were all dimmed down.

It was scary.

But it was also romantic.


	12. The Bridge

**Summary: **Kitty and Johnny share another passionate moment, this time without their classmates, and Johnny gets 'deepfrozen'. How? Read to find out!

**11**

"Don't worry, Dad, Johnny will drop me off at home at eleven," I said. "Not a second later, I promise."

Even though I promised to come home before midnight, Dad still looked sceptically at Johnny. His gaze got stuck on my ripped dress, and his eyebrows moved together, meeting on a point right above his nose. I know what this meant- he was going to argue with me.

But he obviously hadn't count with Johnny. He leaned into the car, smiling at Dad. "don't worry, Pops, I'll drive her home." He said. "No problem."

Before Dad could reply something though, I had seized Johnny's arm and yelled: "Thanks, Dad, until eleven then!" A moment later, we were gone, and I could hear Dad backing out of the driveway and I knew I'd won.

Johnny had disappeared, swallowed by the black night surrounding us by now. I sped up, trying to keep up with him. "Johnny?" I asked into the darkness. "Where are we going to?"

"You'll see," he said flatly. We had reached the place he'd parked his motorbike, and he curtly said: "Get up, Kitten."

I did as he said, grasping for a hold at his old jacket as he got up, too. The cold wind that seemed to die away in the past hour now came back with double strength, and I was chilled to the bones. Wherever we were going to go to, it'd better not be anyplace dumb, I thought.

"We've got no time to loose, Kitten." Johnny said as he accelerated hard, nearly sending me flying off the back seat.

"But where are we going to?" I yelled, the wind that came up as we sped through then night carried my words away. Maybe that's why he did not answer my question- I don't know. I began doubting my decision to stay with him rather than going home on by my own, but it was too late. I could not just jump down the bike, you know?

Johnny stopped the bike, jumping down as soon as he was on a standstill. He dragged me off the back seat, and tottered after him, my legs being numb from the ride here. "You'll ove the view, I'm sure!" he said as he loosened his grip, running away. I had no other choice than to to follow him, eyes still watering from the strong breeze on the bike. Just as I was beginning to find my way, Johnny appeared behind me without a warning and held my eyes shut.

"Johnny…!" I said in a low voice. "What's up?"

"You'll see."

Night already had been black, but with Johnny's hands on my eyes, I could see zero. I could just trust Johnny's word to move forward- trying not to break my leg.

And then, finally, Johnny let go of my eyes, and I could have a look around.

We were standing on a delicate gate on the bridge crossing the small river that ran across the little park in Amity- the only one, by the way. That was what I recognized.

But night had changed the looks of everything drastically. The trees, some of them already clean, looked like some dark border around the scene. The stars I'd admired back at the playground were mirrored in the flowing water that made them look like some streams of silver. As we both watched, a sudden gust of wind lifted a few leaves from the ground, making them dance around us.

"I knew you'd like it," Johnny said in a lowered voice, sounding proud. And then, we finished what we started in that playground back at out school

"Johnny!" I had to gasp for breath when Johnny finally let go of me. "Why did you know… I did not think…"

"That a tough boy like me knows such places?" Johnny said. "What did you think I was doing when I'm skippin' school, Kitten?" Johnny smiled warmly at me again, and I felt the longing to make this moment last forever- just him and me. "I found this place just recently, and I thought you'd like to see it if I ever found some time to show it to you. But that seems to have come earlier than I thought."

My answer was just a deep hug that nearly squeezed the life out of Johnny. I did not know whether he had a girlfriend like me before, and frankly, I did not really care for it. Actually, after what I'd heard of him until now, I doubted this anyway.

Johnny did as I told Dad: He dropped me at my drive yard at half past eleven. Our trip hadn't last that long after all.

When I opened and flickered on the light, I could see a deserted hallway in front of me. Obviously, Mom and Dad had already gone to bed. Good for me, I suppose.

It took me half an hour to clean my face, undo my face and peel my out of my tight-fitting dress. When I was finally done and dressed in my pyjamas, and tottered into my bed, heads first, and fell asleep almost immediately, dreaming of the passionate moment we shared on that bridge.

"Kitty! Kitty, wake up!"

I rolled around in my bed, opening my eyes rather sleepily. "Goomornin';" I greeted my mother. "Whattup?"

Mom stood over me like an eagle facing its prey, and I was suddenly reminded of Spectra and Bertrand. "What. Is. Up. With. Your. dress??" she asked me, pronouncing every single word. "And. What. Has. Happened. To. Your. Shoes? And. What. About. The. School?"

I yawned and scrambled up. The posters on my walls kinda all were a big blur to my eyes right then, and I shook my head, rubbed my eyes and said:

"Firstly, it somehow got ripped," I pronounced the word 'somehow' with extra care, "Secondly, it wasn't my fault, and I couldn't do anything about the last thing. The decorations suddenly came down, I have no idea why. Yeah, and I did the look of my dress, just by the way."

Mom still stared at me, now obviously speechless. I took the opportunity to slip into the bathroom, look the door and have a nice hot bath in the morning. My mother, of course, kept banging against the locked door and shouted for me to get out, but I simply blended her out somehow. I had more important things to dream about.

Still, after one half of an hour, the water had become cold, and I resigned and climbed out of the bathtub, shivering violently. While I dried myself with my favourite towel, I thought about the trouble that was waiting in the living room, impersonated by Mom and Dad. Mom would shout at me, and Dad would just nod his head at whatever she was saying, as usual. I sighed, unlocked the door and went over to my room to get dressed.

I don't want to repeat the argument between my parents and me. I'd just take too long, and would stretch this story far too much. And I don't want to. It's just that I don't understand why they had to ground me.

Now I was sitting on my bed, cross-legged, facing the wall opposite my door, where I had put a few of my favourite posters showing Bing Cosby and Grace Kelly in the motion picture _High Society_. It wasn't really my favourite movie, but I like Grace, that's why I put it there. An LP- Player played in the background, but I couldn't quite concentrate on the words, even though I knew them by heart:

_They're not making the skies as blue this year - wish you were here_

_As blue as they used to when you were near - wish you were here_

_And the mornings don't seem as new_

_Brand-new as they did with you_

_Wish you were here, wish you were here, wish you were here_

_Someone's painting the leaves all wrong this year - wish you were here_

_And why did the birds change their song this year - wish you were here…_

A knock on the door made me jerk around. I'd been to busy sulking to notice what was happening around me, and just mumbled: "Enter."

It was Mom, coming only to tell me that Lunch was ready. I told her I did not want to have any today, and she slammed my door shut again, making some of the pictures on my wall shake. I could hear the key being turned around in the lock twice, and knew she'd locked me in.

But she'd have to lock me out, at least at Monday, when school began again. Even though I did wonder if Spectra had put this idea into her head, I did not really care for it.

Monday at school wasn't as bad as I had pictured it. People just ignored me when I went from class to class, and kept busy with their own stuff when I entered the bus at the morning.

Most of the people on the bus were juniors or seniors that hadn't got a driving license yet. Everybody who could afford it went to school by car. Juniors who had older siblings with a license were loved and admired by their peers, who constantly tried to scrounge a ride on their friend's cars. And those who had neither a license nor siblings with one were stuck with the school bus.

As was I. That Monday, I felt great, even though I assumed my mother hated me by now. I knew I would meet Johnny that day, and it somehow made myself cope with everything.

Well, until I stepped into the main hall after the first period.

"Hello, dolly," someone said. I froze in my tracks. I knew this wasn't gonna be a casual talk. Not with someone like Roger.

"Roger," I snapped at him. "What do you want? Or wait; let your minuscule brain have a second to comprehend that. Or shall I spell it for you?"

Roger completely ignored my insult, and I had the strong feeling that he didn't even get the message- _too much information, brain's collapsing_, or something like that.

He smiled smugly, kicking a leftover soda can over the polished floor as though his complete attention was meant for this useless crap of metal. "All alone now, huh?"

I sneered: "Oh, you noticed it. I was wondering if you maybe needed a new pair of glasses when you did not jump at me right the second I came in. Bravo Monsieur."

Rogers's eyes narrowed, and I kinda knew I was in for it. That's not about 'feminine intuition', it's common knowledge. It was a fresh bucket of beating for me. It was as thought I was suddenly slipped into Poindexter's life. Creepy.

"You're in for it," I heard Roger say promptly. "Numbered all of your bones?" He clenched his fists (which, by the way were about the size of trash can lids- no wonder was playing football, baseball and even basketball at our school), and gradually came closer to me. And all of sudden, we were surrounded by onlookers.

There was no way out of this mess.

"Fight! Fight!" someone jeered, and after one had started, everyone chimed in. Soon enough, the hallway was echoing from all the shouts. If there was going to be a real fight, no doubt Roger would appear the winner of the game.

"Prepare to say our last prayers, Cannonball", he said. Yeah, really clever as he was, he'd found out you could make fun of my last name quite easily. Did not make the thing easier at all.

I closed my eyes as the screams in the back grew louder and louder, and wondering if someone would get a matchbox to collect what was left of me after that fight, I waited for the first strike.

"Let her go, Roger,"

My eyes snapped open, Roger let go of my shirt he'd grabbed earlier, and I turned around. My heart really did a leap (or more like a death-defying leap) when I recognized Johnny at the far end of the hallway. I seriously had no idea where he'd come from, but he was determined to save me.

And then, things moved too quickly for me to take them up. All we knew (and what was carried around school later by gossips) Johnny had Roger tackled to the nearest row of lockers, his eyes seeming almost glowing with fury.

"Never. Do. That. Again!" sounding just like my mother the morning after the fall ball. Johnny held a fist out to Roger, who looked scared, and that despite the fact he was undoubtedly larger than Johnny. "Sniff this?" Johnny now said. Smells like hospital. An' ye know I can do it."

He finally released Roger, who slumped down at the foot of the row of lockers. If he'd been able to, he'd shrunk away completely, I'm sure.

"You'll pay for that, Jinx Boy," he muttered feebly. "For that, for the Fall Ball, and the gas line incident, you little nosebleed."

Johnny stared at Roger his teeth bared, and totally besides himself. He lifted one fist, maybe to show he was not taking any crap from Roger anymore, or something else, I'll never know.

For that very moment, Spectra rounded the corner.

Johnny's situation had just gone from bad to worse. Spectra had her special predator look on her face, the clicking sound of her high-heels on the tiled floor the only sound audible now. You could have been hearing a pin dropping, seriously.

"Mr Owen," she whispered. "My office. Now."

That was the last thing I saw of Johnny for a long time.

Later that day, in my home economics lesson, the door opened, suddenly drawing our attention to it. My stomach gave a lurch when I saw that it was Bertrand, Spectra's dreary-faced assistant. Our old teacher (yeah, the aging-factor strikes again), whose hair was nearly completely balded away, took no notice of him though, at least not until he cleared his throat so loudly even the guys from the last row that were usually pretending to be sound asleep woke up with a start. This was a point where he could not longer pretend Bertrand hadn't come in.

"What's up?" he hissed, rather impatiently. "It's the middle of class, just in case you're not capable of reading the clock!"

"I can it quite well," Bertrand replied in an iced tone that made my hair stood on end, "it's just that I thought you'd like to have your student back." He moved aside, and Johnny stepped into the room. "Mr Owen, please take a seat."

I drew in breath deeply.

Johnny simple looked horrible- even worse than me the day Spectra had picked on me. He rather looked like some of the others that I'd seen leaving Spectra's office the week before the pep race, and I realized he'd not even been in school back then. Though I hadn't had the pleasure to get to know what it felt like to be stuck in Spectra's freezing office, I couldn't get rid of the feeling that it must have been the sheer horror. A living nightmare, at the least.

Johnny was so pale he looked almost transparent, his freckles barely visible now. He was shivering as though he'd spend a week in a fridge, his hands shaking like a smoker's on withdrawal or something.

And I thought my encounter with Spectra was scary.

For the rest of the lesson, Johnny just sat there, even after Bertrand had left, and our teacher had resumed the lesson, looking like a walking zombie. After another lesson, he'd vanished.

Clinging to my backpack, I bit my lower lip nervously.

What had Spectra done to him?

**A/N: **Sorry, but I think uploads are gonna get rare now. ; 'Course I've got plenty of time (spare the weekend, new eppies of DP coming out), but I just got other things in my hand s now. But I promise there'll be a time where you'll DROWN in my uploads!

Until, then,

Jamcub

PS: I'll attach a chapter wher I'll give credits for all the stuff I used in here. ; Justa be on the safe side.


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